If these walls could talk
by liverose
Summary: In a city of millions it's impossible to remain completely isolated, even more so in a tin can of an apartment building, sometimes you make bonds whether you want to or not. Frank / OC
1. Paper Thin

In his crap apartment, on his crap futon, he was getting crap sleep. He didn't toss and turn under his lone blanlet, he laid there stoic and nearly silent and simply took it, sleep was just a necessity not a luxury to indulge in. Adorned in black from head to toe, arms crossed rigidly across his chest, face void of any lingering emotions, if one didn't know better you'd assume him dead, and you'd be right. Here in this crap apartment, on this crap futon slept a dead man, Frank Castle was most assuredly dead.

His dreams were another story, yes dead men do dream; And what of you may ask? Of better times of course, of when they were alive. The moments that made them feel so alive that the memories transcended death itself, kept the corpse moving. Sleep may not be a luxury but these dreams were. These moments where he could still see them, hear them, feel them, the Castle family were alive during these fleeting, cherished moments and he was fully emersed.

As the hours passed dreams and sleep had grown bored with Frank. He could feel himself being beckoned to the world of the living, a place where he didn't belong. As he did with everything else, he fought against it. He dug his nails into the earth trying to hold his place in his dream. He wanted to stay, he wanted to watch his children play and laugh in the front yard, he wanted to sit next to his wife, holding her seemingly tiny hand in his and let this afternoon or any dozens like it last forever.

But that wasn't in the cards, as much he fought, and yelled, it was a moot point. Hands already clawing into the grass and dirt from his long gone suburb, even planting his heavy heels into the ground could not help him remain stationary. It didn't dawn on him how ridiculous he might have looked, him on all fours clinging to the earth's surface as he fought against the inevitable, to be thrown out of paradise, him being bucked back into his shity existence. It didn't seem to phase his dream family in the slightest, everyone was still smiling having fun, he could still hear his little girl he finally lost the battle and woke up something was different. Not that his jaw hurt from clenching it tight in his sleep, not that his fingernails had left indents in his callused hands from his fists balling up, that was par for the course Frank Castle sleep aftermath, something was different. He could still hear her.

The laughing, his daughter's laughter was still ringing in his ears like aftershock. "Lisa?" He barked out, half jumping half tripping out of bed. He tried to pinpoint where it was coming from, his dark eyes scanning the bleak apartment in a frenzy. He couldn't see his baby girl, but he could hear her. Had he finally snapped, completely lost the ability to discern fantasy from reality? But what about that laughter?After getting more of his bearings he finally figured out where that sound was coming from. "Lisa? Frank? Maria?" His open palm landed with a quaking thump against his apartment wall multiple times in rapid succession, it was coming from the other side. He heard a child shriek, a thud and then in a voice that was distinctively not his daughter's a whined reply.

"Nooo! I'm Dahlia and I was just gonna beat Dilly at twister and you ruined it you jerk!" Frank barely acknowledge the words being shouted at him, or that it had begun a whole conversation at the other side of the wall. His focus was on her voice, it was too small, too young to be his daughter. As he became more and more alert, he felt it, that sinking, bone crushing, soul destroying truth, he was alone, his family was gone. He could almost feel his ears trying to contort, trying to lean in just a way so that he could hear her again, keep that illusion just a little longer.

"Idiot!" Knuckles cracked hard against his skull, once. "Fucking Moron." Then twice, as if he was trying to literally knock some sense into himself, or at least cause enough pain to distract him. "Shit . . . get your shit together." As he teed himself up for a third blow to the temple something stopped him.

"Sir? Hey you alright over there?" In a slightly less crappy apartment, sitting awkwardly on a twister mat, with a squirming child on her lap Cordelia stared blankly, a bit in awe at her wall. She knew that sound, the clashing of bone on bone, someone was being punched over there, they did not sound mighty forgiving either. From the grunting and cursing, she deduced it was her shady newish neighbor, punching himself in the face or head. "It was just a game . . . she'll get over it." Her tone was flat and awkward. She didn't know what to say. She knew his self harm most likely had little to do with being called a jerk by a soon to be first grader. From the few glances she had gotten of the lone ranger as some of the other tenants called him, he didn't appear to be an overly sensitive soul.

"Huh?" With his brains being rattled by his own hand that was the only response he could form. His follow up wasn't much better "What?" His face bunched into a scowl when he heard laughter on the other side of the wall, this time coming from the adult. If they knew what kind of caged animal they had just prodded, they wouldn't be laughing.

"I'm sorry." It was as if Frank's disapproving glare had pierced straight through dry wall, Cordelia could feel the tension. "I shouldn't laugh . . . I laugh when I get anxious sometimes. I get anxi . . ." She caught herself beginning to ramble, another anxious trait of hers. _'No one cares Cordelia. 100, 99, 98 . . .'_ She shook her head to regain some level of calm.

Frank had somehow gotten invested in this conversation. It was dawning on him that there were other people in this city besides him and the scum he planned on mowing down, he had become numb almost blind to your average civilian.

"Yeah yeah . . . look kid I'm sorry about your game alright? I'm a bit of a klutz I . . " He tried his best at a disarming chuckle, tried to seem less scary, he didn't want to spook the child. "Just bump into stuff from time to time alright?" There was a long pause after his apology, maybe it hadn't worked, maybe this child wasn't born yesterday and hadn't bought it. He heard some muttering on the other side he couldn't quite make out, then finally a response.

"It's ok I forgive you." Just like that Dahlia was over her tragic loss. Boney feet digging into Cordelia's lap as she stood, wobbling as she ran towards the kitchen. "Dilly can we play again?"

"Sure." Cordelia let out a heavy sigh, this was set to be the eighth one more of the day. "What are you grabbing?" She watched as the little girl with all her strength pulled the step ladder excruciatingly slow across the kitchen floor. "Poptarts . . . need energy to . . ." the girl panted as she now climbed on the counter not yet tall enough to reach her prize. "Win! you want one?"

Frank didn't know why he was still staring at the wall, he had been excused from the conversation once Dahlia had accepted his apology, but he hadn't moved an inch. Perhaps his mind was starved for interaction, listening to that scanner night after night was dulling his brain. Here was something fresh and bright, and not bogged down by the heaviness of the city. His position as a silent eavsedropper was betrayed as he chuckled at the young girl's over the top struggle for a breakfast pastry.

 _'He's still there!'_ Cordelia's eyes shot to the wall in disbelief, and a twinge of concern. Why was he still listening? This was a slumy apartment building in a sketchy part of New York, where people pride themselves on minding their own business and not introducing themselves to their neighbors.

"Dilllllly? Hellllooooo?" Dahlia made it well known she would not tolerate being ignored.

"Dahly relax ok?!" Cordelia switched her focus once again to the child rummaging through her pantry. "There's only one package left in there. How bout we split it?" Cordelia worried that the same poor balance that lead Dahlia to lose eight straight games of twister would cause her to fall off the counter, she wanted her to get down.

It took a moment but the gears finally turned and Frank finally solved a nagging question. "Dilly . . . and Daly . . .huh" He let out another snort of a laugh. The puzzle he had solved was what in the hell kind of name was Dilly, especially for a girl. _'They got matching nicknames, sisters maybe.'_ He still didn't know what Dilly was short for, but giving the name some context quelled the itch in his brain.

"Yeah" Cordelia for a second time was stunned that he was still standing at the wall listening to them, it was making her uncomfortable, she had to put an end to it. "So anyway Mr . . . ." She paused, she had not the slightest clue what his name was.

"Frank" The man of few words struck again.

"Right Mr. Frank these walls-"

"First name . . . not last." He didn't know why he was correcting her, he had no plans on ever having a single conversation with this woman.

"Yeah we're not tight like that." She quickly brushed him off, keeping this lurking stranger at arms length. "So Mr. Frank" she started again without missing a beat. "These walls are paper thin, like everything else in this building they're absolute garbage." She couldn't help but smirk when she heard his now token snort of a laugh emanate from the other side of the wall. "So you can probably hear us breathing over here, and we can hear you blinking over there . . . so just keep that in mind."

As dense and single minded as Frank might appear at first glance he was by no stretch dumb. He could read between the lines. What she really meant was keep to yourself, don't bother us and we won't bother you. It seemed like a perfect setup, he wanted to stew and wallow and rage alone, he didn't need nosey prying neighbors. "Gotcha." He nodded taking two steps back, away from the wall.

"Mr. Frank?" Her voice sounded less confident this go around.

"Yeah?" He was confused, had he done something wrong, wasn't this what they wanted.

"Don't do anything . . . you know rash." Cordelia knew she was overstepping the bounds she had literally just laid out but her conscience was willing to have her overlook that.

"Rash?" Still in the dark Frank didn't understand what she was getting at.

"Just don't be so hard on yourself . . . things will get better. I know you have . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"Have what? What are you getting at?" Frank had many abilities that neared super human levels, patience was not one of them and the change of tone in his voice reflected that.

"Guns." The word came out quick and quiet almost as if it would summon some demon from hell at its mere utterance.

He had moved in a little over two months ago, for the most part his apartment was still and quiet, but Cordelia rarely slept so she hears everything and during the witching hours she could hear the clicking and clanking of more than one gun being cleaned and loaded. At first she just took him as some bruiser thug, part of one of a handful of this city's gangs, nothing to write home about, but he was too isolated for that, he never had a single visitor. Then she thought him to be just your run of the mill gun enthusiast, a man in love with his toys. That didn't stick either, the way he paced his tiny apartment, and on multiple occasions stormed out with such purpose, meant those were not toys, they were far more dangerous than that. He was something she couldn't quite nail down which made him far more dangerous.

Frank was rarely caught off guard, but this was one of those few and far between moments. This woman that if you asked Frank to pick her out of a crowd he couldn't for the life of him, had somehow began to peel back a layer of his anonymity. He felt anger flare in him, how could he have been so careless. Who was she? Who had she told? Was anyone else listening, watching? He didn't hear Cordelia continue her statement, he was only brought back to reality when he heard the ding of their toaster go off. ". . . what you're thinking. I promise I haven't called the cops or told the landlord or anything." He was catching the tail end of a sentence.

"You don't need to worry miss." His voice seemed vapid cold and distant, he was lost in his head, still seeing red.

"I only care about me and Dahlia and I . . ."

"Good. Keep it that way." And with that he finally broke away, taking long strides to his door slamming it with punctuation as he left.

Cordelia stared at the wall for a moment longer, wondering if she did the right thing, letting that stranger just fester feet away with a stockpile of guns. She tried to let it go, taking a semi burnt poptart from her budding chef. _'That's the only thing though.'_ The way he looked at her and Dahlia in passing glances in the hallway that no one would remember but Cordelia is what she was referring to. She had made a life out of reading people, and while she sensed white hot anger, the want and more importantly ability to inflict harm, when he saw them, it gave way to apathy, and a twinge of something she couldn't put her finger on, and that gave her comfort. Up until recently she thought she had some sort of cosmic pull. Anyone that could inflict pain, anyone who wanted to do bad things, to truly destroy someone would find their way to her and do their worst. Here was a text book version of a man hell bent on carnage and he was actively overlooking her. That was a comfort she didn't want to turn over to the police just yet.


	2. Never work with children or animals

' _What kind of fucking sucker am I?_ ' Frank shook his head as he parked his truck. His eyes rested on the panting, slobbering ball of energy, scratching and swiping at the window. "Relax alright?" He scratched behind the ears of the former Irish fight dog, who yelped and barked in response. Bucking it's big square head to meet Frank's hand, nipping slightly at his fingers. "Come on, lets go inside before I change my mind." He was trying to play hard to get with the pitbull, but his face betrayed him, Frank Castle was smiling. He had just shot up the kitchen Irish, blown holes clear through all but one sleaze stuffed meat bag, with no effort, no guilt, nearly no thought at all, he was running on caffeine and instinct. That same instinct wouldn't allow him to leave this poor pit among the bodies and broken glass.

He was going to take it somewhere, a safe place, a place where someone would take care of it, away from the lowlives assholes and criminals of the city. As he drove street after street, wasting precious time he realized that place didn't exist not for strays like them. The city was poisonous, there was no sanctuary to be found. He had pulled up to a dog shelter, the obvious option but he knew if he left the dog there it'd be put down in a day or so. He circled the building two or three times ' _Never did nothing wasn't told to do . . . just follwin commands. Not your fault you look the way you do, you snarl, you bite, just the way you are, the way they made you'_ He had driven away away from the shelter. Frank had no choice he had to keep the dog.

His complex had a no pet policy, but stronger than that was the don't ask don't tell policy shared amongst the tenants. They all had nowhere else to go, they all had skeletons in their closets and were more than happy to keep their heads down if you were willing to do the same. ' _paper thin walls.'_ Cordelia's voice harped in his ears as he walked the dog through the dank hallways. "Gotta keep your voice down alright bud?" He warned his new companion as his apartment door came into view. The dog seemed to understand and almost out of rebellion it began to bark. "Shhhh" Frank placed a hand over the dog's muzzle, but it was too late.

"A dog?" Dahlia had been dragging her feet getting ready for bed but the sound of an animal sparked a fire in her. Shoes were jammed onto her feet as she whipped open the door. "A dog!" She ran full tilt towards the beast.  
"Dahly!" Cordelia groaned as she chased after the child. Frank watched it all play out in slow motion. He could feel the dog pull against it's chain with all the force it could muster, it would dislocate the shoulder of a less sturdy man, instead Frank just adjusted his footing, holding the dog in place.  
" **Hey! Hold it!"** Frank boomed, commanding the attention of every beating heart in the hallway, time froze, every muscle stilled, well nearly every muscle. Dahlia stopped dead in her tracks a spooked look on her face as she stared up at the wall of a man scolding her. The dog relented, bowing it's head to the floor, waiting for Frank's death grip to lessen in the slightest. Frank stood broad and commanding, the shadows of his face looming over them, daring someone to move. Someone did move though, Dahlia disappeared from view a hand was placed on her shoulders and someone nudged past her, blocking her, shielding her.

 _'Here it comes.'_ While her face didn't flinch, inside to her very core Cordelia tensed waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was bound to happen, her cosmic pull had just been delayed this time. They had flown under this gun toting sadist's radar for this long but now they were square in his line of fire. ' _Walked right into this one_.' She studied his clenched, dark features looking for a tell, trying to predict his next move. While she couldn't see it she could sense it, blood and gunpowder, he could clean himself but the presence of death lingered on him, wafted around his very aura. Her eyes dropped to his free hand, his index finger was twitching in rhythmic spurts. _'He's going to kill me right here?'_ She prepared to push Dahlia out of the way, to sprint till a bullet connected. "Listen we didn't-" She slowly gestured Dahlia further behind her.  
"Ain't too friendly." Frank's vice like jaw gave way just enough to grumble out that sentence.  
"The dog or you?" Cordelia accused half jokingly, trying to ease the tension as well as her nerves.  
"Yeah Yeah I get that." Frank's scowl cracked into a grin and a chuckle. He looked down at the floor after being put in his place then back up at Cordelia.

It made sense now, how he hadn't noticed her in his peripheral before. Cordelia was remarkably unremarkable, a busy young woman on the go she could effortlessly blend into any landscape. It took him staring her down like this to notice what made her even slightly discernible. First being her eyes, a grayish green hue encased by sleepless dark circles, peaking past thick copper bangs. They somehow pooled with six or seven conflicting emotions all at once, determination, desperation, fear and resilience, hope and despair. They reminded Frank of those tacky lava lamps, that you can't help but watch ebb and flow _. 'If she thinks any deeper she'll fall right in that rabbit hole.'_ Why was she thinking so hard? Why was she aiming those emerald daggers at him? Why was that so unnerving? Frank's face reverted back to it's normal half grimace. He was never really a fan of why questions, who what where and when were much more his pay grade.

The second notable tidbit Frank stored away about Cordelia was where she chose to stand. Since he had begun his bloody revenge tour he had stared more than a handful of men square in the face before laying them out. Not a single one of them in their last moments tried to save anyone but themselves. In contrast here stood an unarmed woman simply going about her business willing to use herself as a human shield against what he knew her to assume was a blood thirsty murder. ' _Willing to die for that little girl.'_

His gaze drifted to the tiny person frozen behind Cordelia and made another not so remarkable observation. _'They ain't blood.'_ He watch as the child figited in her statue pose. Dahlia had jet black hair tied into two long braids, framing her gold toned face, her dark doe eyes locked puzzled with Frank's, they weren't conflicted liked Cordelia's they were simple and honest and holding onto what Frank could assume was the last bits of untainted humanity in all of New York.  
 _'It's back.'_ Cordelia could finally let out a breath of relief as she saw that apathy and this time a more even dose of that unmarked feeling smooth out the hard lines of Frank's face. They were safe again, he was ambivalent again. Her grip laxed on Dahlia's shoulder, and the curious child mistakenly took that as a cue to speak.

"What's your dogs name?" The standoff had been completely lost on the innocent minded child, whose focus had never truly wavered from the canine.  
"Dahlia what did I say about talking to-"  
"He's not a stranger . . . that's our neighbor Mr. Frank DUH." Dahlia could not believe that Cordelia had quickly forgotten their interaction little over a week ago.  
"Right of course." Cordelia rolled her eyes.  
"Kids get smart under your nose." Frank chuckled.  
 _'Kids. . . he's got kids.'_ Scanning over the man in black, he didn't exactly exude many fatherly features. He seemed on edge waiting for a fight, not to take a kid to soccer practice. _'Lisa, Frank, Maria.'_ Cordelia remembered the names he had shouted into the wall. _'Are those his kids? Where are they? They don't live here. Paper thin walls.'_ She decided not to pry, instead just nodding. "Yup."

He caught her questioning gaze, he had done it again, he had allowed her to sneak under his defenses, learn more about him. He needed to turn the tables. "So you work at the quick stop?" He grabbed at the only other obvious piece of information he could gather about her, it was written right on her shirt.  
"Huh? Oh yeah, cheapest burnt coffee and stale hotdogs in the area, you're missing out." She assumed he had never been into the dingy little convenience store she worked at, she would have remembered tall dark and brooding trying to squeeze his broad shoulders into the tiny corner store.  
"That's in a bad part of town."  
"Opposed to the good part?"Cordelia looked from left to right as she shrugged and they both shared a half hearted laugh. Awkwardly dancing around small talk they almost didn't notice Dahlia on the move. Almost, nothing got by Frank's sniper senses for longer than a half a second.

"Look here alright?" Frank bent down to his knees, getting to eye level with Dahlia. She couldn't even see him, to Dahlia Frank and Cordelia were all but invisible, it was just her and this oh so petable dog, wounds and all. Frank again placed his hand over the dogs muzzle. He knew those eyes all to well, the determined will of a child was nothing to take lightly. None of them were leaving till her pet quota was reached. "Real slow and real gentle." Providing an example he slowly ran his palm over the dogs head far away from it's fight prepped jaw. "Ok?"  
"Yes! yes! yes!" Dahlia was hopping in place as she nodded vigorously.  
"Slow and gentle." Frank repeated as he tightened his grip on the chain, waiting to pull back if something went wrong, hoping that any of that had sunk in with the over eager child.  
"Slow and gentle." One couldn't be sure if Dahlia's hand was actually making contact with fur as she dutifully mimicked Frank's action. "Good doggy, Good Doggy." The energy radiating from Dahlia's smile could light a whole city block.

Frank slowly took his hand away from the dogs snout, and rose back up to his feet. Giggling and heavy panting were the only sound as Cordelia and Frank watched Dahlia's dreams become reality. "Dilly he . . . " Dahlia could not control her laughter. "He's licking my face." Dahlia had gone from air petting to out right hugging and nuzzling the fearsome cage fighter.  
"I can see that." Cordelia's face soured but it didn't last, Dahlia's laughter was infectious. "I'll go get the wet naps." Cordelia turned to her still open apartment door and grabbed some wipes off the counter before returning.

"I hope you know what you've done." Cordelia stated flatly. "I told you not to do anything rash and you-"  
"Huh?" Frank hadn't been listening, he had been allowing this one warm and fuzzy moment pierce his inner armor. It brought back memories and for once in what seemed like an eternity they weren't pain ridden and gore saturated, they were good memories of a time before everything went to shit.  
"Don't huh me. They're best friends now. Dahlia and . . . your miniature horse."  
"It's a dog Dilly." Dahlia stated the obvious again, still engrossed with petting every inch of the pooch.  
"Not a dog person mam?" Frank snickered at Cordelia's mild unease.  
"I . . . not particularly." She shook her head. _'This isn't a dog it's a hellhound.'_  
"I know the place says no pets but I-"  
"I'm no snitch Mr. Frank. Dahlia here is head over heels, I wouldn't break up this love connection. Get used to having a pint sized stalker though, she'll be on you two like white on rice."

Again Frank Castle read between the lines. ' _You're a dangerous man and I know that, but Dahlia doesn't, and you slipped up. She wants to pet your dog from now until eternity so you will have to be on your best most child friendly behavior when she is around.'_ And again her demands seemed reasonable. "Gotcha." His response was the same as before.

"Come on it's time for bed Dahly and I'm sure Mr. Frank has to . . ." Cordelia trailed off, she had no idea what this walking shadow did to pass the time.  
"Get back to work." Frank tucked away this brief pleasant moment under layers of war waged muscles, scar tissue and guilt. He still had the warehouse to take down, and that one Irish to pluck out of whatever sewer the vermin was hiding in. He had much to do before the sun came up, many more targets to cross off his list.  
"Right." Again Cordelia chose not to pry. She didn't want to know about Frank's work just as much he was making clear from his dark glazed over stare he didn't want to discuss it.

"Fiinnne! Ok!" Dahlia gave one last full body hug to the dog before standing, letting out a yawn as she waved a big goodbye. "Goodnight Doggy. Goodnight Mr. Frank." Dahlia was not intimidated by Frank Castle, not scared. The junkies down the hall scared her, the old couple that yelled at her for using sidewalk chalk on the walls of the building living on the first floor intimidated her. This quiet man with big ears who let her pet his dog, he was possibly the best neighbor they'd ever had.  
"Night kid." Frank gave a far less enthusiastic wave back. "Night . . ." He paused, tilting his head and squinting for a moment. "Cordelia." He read the off kilter name tag tacked to her shirt. "Oh I'm sorry, we ain't tight like that . . . Miss Cordelia." He smirked as he gave her a casual salute goodbye.

Cordelia rolled her eyes at his obvious mockery of her. If she hadn't moments ago been half past certain he planned to fill her full of lead Cordelia probably would have found Frank attractive. He wasn't exactly her type, too clean cut in contrast to men she had previously pursued, but classically good looking in his own right. Polite and even appeared to have a sense of humor. Though that one hang up was a bit too jarring to over look. _'It's true what they say . . . the better looking, the more batshit they are.'_ Cordelia nodded goodbye to Frank before ushering a less than willing Dahlia back into their apartment.

After getting Dahlia to bed and a moment of contemplation Cordelia pounded a fist against her wall. "Hey Frank." She paused but got no response. "Be . . . you know safe out there . . . If you get hurt at work, I'll have to take in that horse." Still no response. She sighed falling deep into her lumpy couch. ' _Can't pretend he doesn't exist anymore. He knows our names.'_ For some reason that made their casual acquaintance status more real. ' _Just gotta make sure he doesn't completely lose it and shoot up the building. There's no room for a dog here.'_ She assessed her already cramped and crumbling apartment as she pretended not wanting a pet was the sole reason she didn't want Frank to flatline in the streets. Truth be told he was growing on her, as much as a nearly mute psychopath could.

"Don't waste your time worrying about me mam." Frank had been listening and after fully chewing over and digesting her words he finally responded. " I ain't looking for a babysitter." It was his turn to keep his neighbor at bay. _'I ain't lookin to play it safe. I ain't looking to last much longer."_ He found a place to attach the dog's chain, packed more weapons and ammo and made his way to the door. _'Don't have no use.'_ He was referring to creating any new attatchments. His life was over when his family died, time stopped, there was nothing new for Frank, just unfinished business he needed to take care of before he joined them.

He stormed out into the night angry with the fact that he knew he was wrong. There WAS something new, tucked far away and deep inside so as not to get in the way of his mission, but that little happy moment was still there, was now a part of him. These two girls were sticking to his subconscious like bubble gum to the bottom of a shoe. ' _Don't need any of them getting in my way, slowin me down.'_ The dog, the kid, the girl, a dead man can't be expected to carry all that dead weight. "Fuckin Sucker!" He grumbled under his breath slamming a fist into his steering wheel.

A/N: Firstly I know that I placed this story under The Punisher but am starting in Daredevil season two, but it made sense to me and I'll get there eventually I promise. Secondly upon rewatching everything to make sure I'm staying at least vaguely close to the story I realized how quickly everything happens, no rest for the wicked I suppose, but for the purpose of my story I may (will) be spacing out the timeline a bit, sorry if that ruins everything but Rome wasn't built in 13 episodes. Thanks for reading and happy holidays.


	3. Caught red handed

He was spiraling, not out of control. Frank Castle doesn't allow himself to not be in control, but he was most certainly spiraling in and out of frenzy as he took down one cartel member after another. He felt as if he was being compacted and torn to shreds at the same time. What someone might imagine being tossed into a black hole feels like. Shouting at the top of his lungs as he drudged through the bodies. It made sense, it was the only thing in this shithole that did. It gave him purpose, something every living creature instinctually craves, but no matter how much he did, who he made pay, the void remained. The black hole festering inside of him grew larger by the minute, he wouldn't be able to fight it forever, it would surely consume him.

It wasn't the biting cold of the meat locker that brought him back to reality as he leaned the base of his skull against the blood slick wall. He could see his breath steaming from his lungs as he let out aggravated pants and grunts. It wasn't the death rattle of the few men holding onto their last moments of living. It didn't bring Frank satisfaction, but it did make him feel content, delayed the expanding void for a millisecond. This aspect of his mission was a success, they were down for the count. It was a simple plastic cup half filled with flat cola that sent him plummeting from his sniper's post of controlled chaos. "For fuck's sake." He kicked over the table with a heavy boot, causing the offending cup to roll across the floor somewhere. He began to make his exit, he didn't have time to have a temper tantrum like the one he had in the pawn shop.

As he took long strides to leave a hand clenched at his ankle. Eyes looked up at him for mercy, a foaming mouth gurgle out some nonsense, the words got stuck in the red jelly like coagulation but the pleading tone was clear as crystal. "Yeah. Yeah. Just shut it." Frank's voice was gravely from underuse followed by abrupt shouting. Lifting his gun from his side the barrel connected with the dying man's forehead. **Click. Bang.** Just like that the room was still again, sans Frank's hagered breathing. _'Waste of a bullet for one god damn second of peace and quiet.'_ To say Frank was in a foul mood would be the understatement to end all understatements.

She scrolled through her phone, replying to texts, looking at pictures, googling whatever passing thought came to mind, killing time. She was waiting for the next construction worker to come in for a pack of reds, or the next drunk to stumble and crash into her chip isle. At three in the morning the ever tired Cordelia flew on auto pilot. It took all the energy she could muster to look up from her screen when the chime alerting her that someone had entered went off. When her weighted gaze did eventually lift, she was jolted into a state of awakeness she had not felt in years.

"It ain't enough to work in the shit part of town, you gotta work overnight by yourself?" Frank Castle was no longer her prickly neighbor, now he was a patron at her corner store. Cordelia's eyes couldn't have strained any wider as she took in the majestic and haunting sight of Frank in the wild. He hadn't wanted to make this detour, he was a busy man he had places to be people to kill, but it was bugging him. A distracted mind leads to mistakes, and he wasn't a marine that made mistakes. The same logo from the cup in the meat packing Cartel strong hold was plastered on every wall of the establishment. He had to see, he had to bother himself to see if she really did work in the eye of the storm, if she was in putting herself in danger. _'Why?'_ He couldn't answer himself, couldn't rationalize the compulsion, his foul mood deepened.  
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Her phone clacked against the counter, echoing in the stillness of the night.  
"Was told I was missing out." He help up a thermos as he walked closer. "The kid home alone?" His mind shot to the little pj clad dog lover. He didn't want to have to check out another location, but as he waited for her answer he calculated the quickest route from the store to the apartment to the hospital, he was always planning, mentally pacing.  
"What is . . . Shit I'm not . . . No. She isn't." Cordelia could barely make out words as her brain struggled to compute, simply could not believe her eyes.

 _'Is this how she talks to all her customers?'_ He could see concern bleeding out of her pores. He wondered if this was how she spent every night, dangling on razor's edge. _'Ain't helpin she's dog tired. When's this lady sleep?'_ He didn't take time to dwell on the hypocrisy of that accusation. He was pushing his own body to it's limits, past them at necessary points but he was used to that ache. It was a part of him, he wouldn't know what to do without it, wouldn't feel he was trying his hardest to right the big wrongs. "You walk here?" He hadn't noticed any cars in the lot, he wondered if she was that careless to walk the city alone at night. _'She have a death wish?'_

"That's none of your business." Cordelia was beginning to have wonders of her own. _'Does he not notice? He can't not know.'  
_ "When your right, you're right." He put his arms up in surrender, one hand still clutching his thermos. _'Atta girl.'_ It wasn't military grade training but being street smart and tight lipped might be enough to allow Cordelia to make it through Hell.

"Listen is this some kind of fucked up test? To see if we're cut from the same cloth? If so I fail alright? This isn't some shit I want a part of." Cordelia couldn't continue to look the other way. 'This is just getting ridiculous.' She stood her ground, her knuckles were white hands clenched in fists on the counter. _'The fuck am I doing?'_ Was she going toe to toe with Frank Castle? He must have been right, she must have a death wish.  
"The Hell you going on about?" He cocked his head to the side, blinking stupefied as he tried to figure out what he missed. Had somewhere in their limited interaction he enlisted her to his plight?  
 _'He's got no god damn clue.'_ That made it indefinitely worse, not better.

"Wash your fucking hands Frank." Cordelia let out an exhausted sigh. Only then did it make sense, giving himself a once over he really looked at his hands. His knuckles were busted, patches of tan skin were stained crimson. Placing his thermos on the counter he upturned his palms, more blood, caked into their creases and folds.  
"Hnn" Was his only grunted acknowledgment. He was repulsed, not that he had killed, gotten his hands dirty, someone had to do it. That the filth was sticking to him, he was cleaning up the city but it was clinging to him, smothering him, choking out what little good he had left in him and he was too far gone to even notice. He slowly lumbered over to a sink off in the corner.

"Your neck too, there's a little . . . " She scanned him over, it was pointless, it was everywhere. _'So much blood.'_ She'd never seen a sight quite like this. His skin, his clothes, his boots, his face, all splattered in one spot or another with blood. "Are you hurt?" The silence was getting to her, causing her even greater unease than the blood itself. "Frank?" He was too busy cleaning the Cartel off him, from under his finger nails. "Frank?!" She was louder this time, trying to regain his attention.  
"Ain't my blood." He shook his hands dry as he he made the matter of fact statement. That shouldn't have made her feel better but it did, it allowed her to let out the breath she didn't know she was holding.

"You're a scary man you know that?" She didn't know what else to say, there was no right thing to say in a moment like this. She took his thermos and started filling it with coffee.  
"Any scarier than the Cartel?" This is what he came for he convinced himself, Intel.  
"Cartel?"  
"They shop here."  
"They need blunts and condoms like everyone else." Cordelia shrugged, it was a fact of life.  
"And the other gangs?" Frank fished further, assessing the threat.  
"Other gangs?" She paused for a second, she didn't really view people by their alliances so much as what brand of cigarette they bought. "Some Yakuza used to come here, haven't seen em in a while. We get all kinds." Again she shrugged this topic did not play to her strengths.

"What time is your shift over?" He could see she was tired, she was trying to hide she was scared, but more than anything she was just so tired.  
"What's it to you?" With force she screwed on the top to the thermos, handing it back to him.  
"I ain't gonna hurt you. If I was I'd lay you out now, not after you finish your eight hours." He pointed out she was worrying about irrelevant details.  
"I feel like you meant for that to sound . . . nicer than it did."  
"No." He grabbed his thermos from the counter, threw a few bills at the register. "I'll be done by then." Clipping Grote wouldn't take long. " I'll give you a ride home." He was done here, the ball was in her court, he wouldn't beg, he didn't need anything from her.  
"Six." Cordelia relented, agreed, he wouldn't hurt her. She had no idea though, when accepting Frank's offer how further into the pits his mood could go. She'd find out at six.

She clocked out, took off her issued cap and walked out into the cresting sunlight. She had expected Frank to be late, but he was out there, waiting for her. She hesitated for a second, this was a dangerous man, a man that mere hours ago came to her dripping with blood, what lapse in judgement was telling her it was remotely alright to get in his vehicle? _'Of course it is. What else would it be?'_ She smacked a palm to her forehead, her wordless response to the sight before her. Only two kinds of people owned this type of sleazy seventies style van, those that gave free candy to children before burying their bodies in the woods, and people like Frank Castle. Cordelia let out a yelp of surprise as she was brought out of her inner dialogue by the sound of the van's horn.

"You gettin in or what? I ain't a god damn taxi I'm not going to wait here all day"  
"You can't offer someone a ride then be a dick about giving them a ride." The door's aged hinges squeaked as Cordelia swung it open and slammed it shut behind her.  
"Yeah? Says who?" Frank put the car into drive and pulled out of the lot.  
"What crawled up your snatch and died? Listen Frank I don't need-" She stopped, dead in her tracks. As her eyes connected with Frank's face she saw something that scared her more than the image of him smeared with blood. "You're hurt." His lip was busted, above his eye was swelling, his cheek had already begun to bruise. _'Who squares off, with him? Whose badder than Frank?'  
_ "It ain't . . .look. . . " He wanted her to stop staring at him, wanted her to lose that look of pity. "It ain't nothin." His face scrunched, pulling at tender muscles. He nearly jumped out of his skin at what happened next.

Her hand, her soft little fingers were on his stony face, dusting over his injuries, reminiscent of the careful petting Dahlia had given his dog, Cordelia too steered clear of the jaw of an animal. For a second, less than that, less then half Frank closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel some measure of tenderness. She was just running her fingers over his face but he could feel her everywhere, trying to take the pain away. But that pain belonged to Frank and he would not so easily part with it. **"Hey!** " He grabbed her wrist in a swift and clenching fist. "Knock it off." He pulled her away from him throwing her hand at her lap as if her skin burned him. And it did burn, it burned better than Frank wanted to acknowledge.

"That supposed to hurt?" Cordelia's voice wasn't pointed and angry like before, this was a legitimate question.  
"W . . . what?" Frank gave her a double take, he didn't understand. Was she mocking him? Was she expecting him to hurt her? Had he? He looked over at her wrist, to see if he hadn't known his own strength, if he had left a mark, if he really was becoming just as bad as those shit bags he was laying out. Not yet he hadn't, she was unharmed.  
"Nevermind." Cordelia wouldn't look at him staring at her feet as the drive grew long with silence.

"Hey Cord, can I ask you somethin?" Frank's finger was twitching again, this day was growing heavy with unanswered questions.  
"Sure." She looked up from her shoes, but not at Frank, out the window. She didn't want him to see her smile. _'Good going Cordelia. Now we're tight like that.'_ Frank was no longer a neighbor or a customer, only friends and enemies give nicknames, she and Frank were now floating somewhere in between.  
"What is it . . . with women you know . . . givin a shit about dirt bags?" Frank's mind traveled to the wispy blonde dragging Grotto out of his cross hairs.  
"You calling yourself a dirt bag Frank? You having lady troubles? Maybe it's the shaggin wagon." She turned, she would allow him to see this smile, so he didn't miss her sarcastic tone. He smiled back, chuckling before biting at his swollen lip.  
"Lady problems, yeah OK." He nodded slightly as he spoke. "I ain't the shit stickin to the bottom of the barrel, but I ain't next in line to become pope neither right?" He smirked as their building came into view. "So what is it huh? Some motherly instinct shit?"  
"Shit this, shit that, you'll never be anointed with a mouth like that." She quipped back as she did her best to muster up a real answer to this surprisingly deep question. "Maybe for some people . . . maybe for your lady friend." Cordelia nodded, she couldn't speak for anyone but herself, and her reasonings and priorities were not of the majority.

"Not you though huh? What makes you tell a man . . . tell a man to wash his hands, stead of callin the cops, fill his mug up stead of runnin away huh?"  
"Not me." Cordelia shook her head before locking eyes long and hard with Frank, he was listening, waiting, he wanted an answer he needed to know why she cared about a dirtbag like him.  
"Women . . . aren't allowed to be dirtbags. Society's double standard you know? Even if it's just that simple, just black and white, they look for the saint in every sinner. It's gotta be in there right?" Her voice was wavering slightly as memories she had long since buried clawed their way to the surface.

She remembered all those years ago sitting in the interrogation room, her second home, looking up at the man she viewed as a second father. He was the only man who looked at her that way, like she mattered. "It's not your fault Cordelia. You're not a bad person it's-"  
"I do bad things." She had cut him off, he was trying to save her and she was fighting it. "I'm at a police station . . . where bad people go, for doing bad things."  
"My job Cordelia is to protect the good people . . . from the bad ones. My job is to protect people like you. I'm going to keep you safe alright?" And he had protected her, with every ounce of everything he had, that man had done his best to protect her.

"Hey? Cord? You in there?" Frank was waving a hand in front of her face. This was another look he knew all too well, the haunted look someone gets when they're hashing it out with their demons.  
"Yeah." She swallowed hard before resuming. "So maybe it's like I see someone . . . a dirtbag like you." She did her best to lighten the mood. "And feel like I deserve some of that . . . Whatever karmatic things happen to you, I deserve that too."  
"You a sinner Cord?" Frank was trying to stare into her soul, trying to find whatever it was she was so dutifully hiding.  
"Ain't gonna be pope." She shrugged, she was done talking in circles, she just wanted to go home.

The conversation ended there, they both seemed content with that fact. The silence that followed them from the van to the complex's door didn't seem nearly as stifling and awkward as the many before, it didn't last though. "You're gonna want to walk behind me couple steps alright?" Cordelia warned as she opened the door for them. Frank waited for her to go through first, a puzzled look on his face.  
"What you don't want your boyfriend to see us together?" He cracked, but still he headed her words. He waited till she was halfway down the hall to follow after her. He was scanning the space wondering what she was getting at? Again an anxious finger twitched. As Cordelia passed an open door that finger found it's home on the trigger.

"It hasn't grown since yesterday Rocky, pull your pants up and close the door. You're welcome." First she addressed the man that greeted her every morning when she got home from work, offering her a look at the goods, then at Frank to explain her warning.  
"Why you always gotta be like that princess?" Rocky, pants still at his ankles continued his daily ritual of hassling Cordelia.  
"Don't call me princess." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "It's been a long day ok? I'm tired, just close the door and finish your one man show."  
"We both know, there was a time you would beg the dogs to throw you a bone."  
"Dogs?" Frank snapped out his surprised stupor and quickly closed the gap between him and Rocky's apartment, gun drawn.


	4. Shades of Gray

"What did you . . . Pull your fuckin pants up." Frank had his pistol out, aiming it square between Rocky's eyes.  
"Hey man relax!" As he grabbed the waist of his pants and pulled them up he was rewarded with a thick punch to the gut.  
"What did you say? You a biker? Yeah?" Frank already knew the answer, he saw the vest draped over a chair in the apartment he was dragging Rocky into.  
"Frank what are you doing?" Cordelia asked a dumb question, it was clear what he was doing. She winced as Frank plowed his fist into Rocky's face.  
"And you?" He spun around his furious eyes tearing her to shreds. "Are you one too?" Frank's guard was completely up. Was the only person he gave the time of day to part of one of the gangs responsible for killing his family. Was she planted there to keep tabs on him? That nonsensical conspiracy theory made more sense than the vague bullshit she had been feeding him.  
"No I-"  
"Tell me Rocky, and don't you lie to me yeah?" The butt of Frank's gun collided with Rocky's skull. "Huh? She run with the dogs?" Frank spat as he interrogated the dazed flunky.  
"What do you want me to say I'll say it! She didn't ride with us she's just a whore that got too old so we got rid of her. Should be thankin us for everything we gave you. Sucking our cocks whenever-" Rocky didn't stop talking so much as he was physically incapable of talking. His throat was held in Frank's vice grip pinning him off the floor and against the wall.  
"Anyone tell you . . . you talk too much"

"Frank?!" Cordelia tugged on one of his tree trunk arms trying to keep him from killing Rocky.  
"What? You like this? You want this? Letting this pervert jack off to you when you walk by in the morning? Does that get you going huh?" His grip tightened, Rocky was turning purple, clawing in desperation.  
" You can't kill him!" And with a thud Rocky was dropped to the floor, gasping sputtering clutching his own neck.  
"Go upstairs." Frank would take his aggression out on this unlucky tool. Grotto may have eluded him again, but Frank would use Rocky as a temporary replacement knife holder. He wouldn't kill Rocky in front of Cordelia, she wasn't built for that level of guilt, or whatever blood and guts that would spill out for that matter.

"Please help me." Rocky managed to cough out a plea to Cordelia.  
"Oh now with the please and thank yous huh? Second ago you wanted her on her knees right? Now you want her help? She can't help you. Cord close the door, go upstairs!" Frank's patience was wearing dangerously thin.  
"You let him kill me, they'll know it was you. They'll come for you and that chink kid of yours." Rocky threw his chips down on the table, hoping a threat would spur Cordelia into action.  
"Now!" Frank boomed, he would not wait a second longer. Gun pointed at Rocky daring him to move Frank grabbed Cordelia by the collar and shoved her out of the apartment, causing her to fall on her backside, slamming the door right in her face.

 _'Holy fuck. What do I do? What do I do?'_ Cordelia was frozen, useless, just staring at the door hoping this was all a bad dream. _'Run.'_ She had done it before, she could do it again. Just run upstairs take Dahlia, Mrs. Bell the old woman watching her and run far far away from the unhinged maniac that was Frank Castle. She didn't run though, hell it took her near a century to even stand, never losing eye contact with the door. Reaching out a shaking hand, her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, but much like running Cordelia failed to act, she didn't open the door. She was about to, she really was but her self preservation told her otherwise. The sounds emitting from the other side of the door were horrifying, gruesome, made Cordelia's stomach turn, none worse so than than the low almost unintelligible snarl of Frank's voice.

"What are you . . . what are you talking about huh?" Frank laid a heavy kick into Rocky's ribs.  
"What do you want? I'm sorry!" Rocky was still pleading, still mistakenly thinking he had a way out of this, that he could appeal to Frank's humanity, that Frank had any readily available.  
"The girl. Did you touch her? How bout your buddies huh? They put a hand on her?"  
"I . . . No I never did, we didn't I swear!" Rocky coughed. "She took her, the bitch took the china doll with her right after she came to the house."  
"The house?" Frank pulled Rocky up by his collar, fire and brimstone blowing out of his nostrils  
"I wasn't there, it was years ago. We don't do shit like that anymore I swear."  
"Where's this house huh?"  
"I . . . I don't know. It was years ago man! I didn't even know they were here. Hooker with a heart of gold paid for the girl in full, don't know how. They've been gone for years, girl was in diapers last time the Dogs had anything to do with them. I'll leave em alone I swear, I didn't know they were your's." Rocky tried to form a truce, if there were anyway to go about it this was certainly not it. Frank's still damaged face contorted into something not even remotely human.

 _'Mine?'_ That notion almost slipped by him but when it registered it sent Frank over the edge. What was his was gone, ripped from him, blown to indescribable bloody bits. He would never say his wife and children were 'his', they were better than him in every measurable way, better than everything, better than life itself. What was his, what he didn't deserve but had lucked into was the ability to love them, to be loved back unconditionally by them. And that love that he held so dear seemed so far away, so badly damaged. He still felt it, it was the stitching that was barely holding him together, but it would never be what it once was. Happiness would never be 'his' again. "Yeah you're going to leave em alone." With a seamless set of movements Frank plunged a knife deep into Rocky's gut, once, twice, a third time. Frank dropped Rocky's body to the floor with an unceremonious flop. His lost frantic eyes struggled to stay in one place, pacing the room, eventually falling on Rocky's vest. His heart sunk, plummeted straight to the soles of his shoes. It was back, the loneliness, the pain, the anger, the war was back at the forefront of Frank's gaze.

The door eventually creaked open, slow and ominous, very horror movie esque. "Frank!" Cordelia found a way to yell and whisper at the same time. "What the fuck did you do?" She watched as Rocky's lifeless dripping corpse flopped with each of Frank's steps, he was heading to the basement. He wouldn't grace that dumb question with an answer. "You didn't have to do that Frank . . . What if someone sees you?" Cordelia had to jog to keep up with Frank as they headed downstairs.  
"No one sees shit Ma'am. No one hears shit, no one does shit. City full of deaf dumb mutes." With a grunt he threw a shoulder into the basement door, forcing it open.  
"I didn't want you to do this . . . I didn't ask you to save me Frank . . . hell I'm not sure if I'm in more danger now than I was before." She stood back as he powered his way through another door, leading to a back alley.  
"Makes two of us." Frank glanced back at her before releasing Rocky into a dumpster. He wasn't decided about Cordelia. Frank Castle liked black and white and she was nothing but the most obnoxious shade of gray.

"That's it?" Cordelia wasn't exactly sure what she was expecting as far as body removal went but tossing Rocky out with garbage was not it.  
"People that don't do shit, don't get a say in how it's done." Some trash was scattered above the corpse and the lid closed. "So unless you want blood on your hands just let me be." Frank rubbed his palms against his thighs wiping off said blood, and a little bit of week old mac and cheese. If he thought anyone gave two shits about the cockroach Rocky perhaps he would have given the disposal more than a second's thought.  
"I'm trying . . . I really am . . . you're just . . . making it hard." Cordelia sighed as they came back in the apartment, taking one last look at Rocky's impromptu resting place. _'Is this my fault? Did I do this?'_ looking at her hands she could see they were shaking. _'100, 99, 98, 97, 96-'_

"So you gonna explain yourself?" Frank needed this puzzle solved, he needed black and white again no more gray. _'If I put her down what about the kid?'_ His eyes shot up to the ceiling.  
"Explain myself? Really? You're the one who just stabbed a guy to death and you want-"  
"Explain your connection . . . your connection with the dogs . . . they . . . I can't-"  
"I was young alright? I didn't have much of a choice. I'm not proud of it . . . it's not exactly on my resume." Cordelia stared at her feet, preferring fearing for her life over this awkward secret sharing session they were in. "But I'm not young and weak anymore. I'm my own person, I don't need anything from anyone. It's just Dahlia and me versus the world." looking up for a split second was a regrettable choice. Frank's stare could cut diamonds, he was trying to bore through her chest and stop her heart with a look.

He had heard this song and dance before, it's never anyone's fault, the poor decisions they've made in life. This still wasn't clearing anything up, everything was still so very gray. "When? Were you still a part-"  
" I was never 'a part' of anything. I was a prostitute for a gang . . . not a gang member."  
"Same difference. Really gonna split hairs on that?" Frank's glare broke for a second, into a questioning look. _'Always picks the weirdest things to fall on her sword about.'_  
"There's a big difference. No one had my back . . .that's the difference, I wasn't a friend a family member, a team player I was just a mattress warmer. You ever been a part of something Frank? You're a loner like me, but not always. You used to be a part of things right? That's why you're so angry-"  
"Alright just shut it Dr. Phil I don't need my head shrunk. Don't talk about shit you don't understand." The darkness of the basement made Frank's looming approach to Cordelia seem even more frightening. He didn't appreciate her telling him how he felt. _'She's trying to flip it. This ain't about me.'_ He closed his eyes for a second, hoping for clarity, hoping for quiet, all he saw was gray. "Ma'am I'm gettin real tired of asking. When did you leave the dogs?" Part of Cordelia wanted to press her luck, ask why it mattered but ever reading people she knew Frank couldn't handle much more conversation, he was about to blow.

"Five years . . . it's what September? Six years, one month . . ." She paused trying to remember what day of the week it was currently. "Seventeen days. Is that the answer you wanted?" Cordelia was growing exhausted, she just wanted this all to be done with. When he continued to just stare at her stone faced, it was her turn to blow, something had to give. "Six years Frank! So I don't need the dogs, I also don't need YOU protecting me, picking me up from work, just mind your own business alright? I've done just fine for six fucking years before you came barging in killing anything that looks at you funny."

"Fine?" Frank finally broke his silence with a sarcastic chuckle.  
"What?"  
"You call this fine? Hell you call this living? Scampering through the city, tail between your legs? Letting dipshits walk all over you? Sleepin with one eye . . . nah that ain't even you, you can't even close one eye, too scared. And that's doin just fine? Hate to see you on a bad day Cordelia."  
"Don't mock me Frank." She was still afraid of Frank, but if she was going to be murdered she didn't want the last words she heard to be nagging.  
"I'm just callin em as I see em."  
"For me . . . that's fine . . . it's tolerable ok? Better word choice? There are two kinds of people in the world Frank. Givers and Takers. You're a giver Frank, doling out your street justice or whatever you wan't to call it. I'm a taker, I just suck it up and take whatever life gives me, and my tolerance for less than ideal shit is through the roof."

"And what about the kid?"  
"Leave Dahlia out of it." Cordelia was done with this conversation, done with Frank, she was going back to her apartment, leave her past in the past, and Frank in this basement.  
"She just supposed to take it too? She gotta suffer for your shit?"  
"Shut up! She doesn't have to I . . ." She paused shaking her head. "I don't need to explain myself to you . . . you're insane! You're fucking batshit! They won't hurt Dahlia, I make sure of that and I'll make sure you don't either." She had made it all the way to the stairs but her escape was thwarted.

He had her, forearm across her throat, pinned against the wall gun to her head, staring at her, just completely lost in her. "That so huh?" His voice was coming from the pit of his stomach, deep and coated in bile. "You never mentioned that before."  
"Mentioned what?" Cordelia wasn't as scared as she should have been, too busy kicking herself. _'Cosmic pull.'_  
"That you're bulletproof."  
"I . . ."  
"What? What is it Super Girl? That must be it right? You gotta be fucking invincible to make promises like that. That you won't LET people do this that and the third? You got the spine of a jellyfish but what the hide of a rhino?"  
"I never said-"  
"Cause I'll tell you Super Girl, I get it, I really do. I thought I was invincible too, untouchable, shit I couldn't lose and I figured I'll blink I'll take a breath I deserve it right? You know what that got me? Do you?"  
"No." Cordelia's voice was solem, she didn't know the details but she could tell where this was headed. _'Maria, Lisa, Frank.'_ Feeling sad for Frank's loss took her mind off the fact that he was less than inches away from killing her. With every word his index finger jerked, with purpose, Cordelia's only saving grace was that it would always stop right before the trigger.  
"A picnic and three headstones." Frank's ears rang with the sound of the carousel, the sound of bullets, the sounds of bodies hitting the ground. _'Black and White.'_ It was finally clear to him, what he had to do.

"100, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95-"  
"What's that? What are you doing?" Frank was torn from the park, torn from the massacre, back in the basement.  
"Counting." Cordelia answered simply, then started from the beginning. "100, 99, 98, 97-"  
"No shit it's counting. Why?" He had heard people beg, pray, curse and cry but never count. He pulled his gun away from her head, still holding her in place though.  
"Metronome . . . it's a trick to get unstuck."  
"Unstuck? How's that working out for you?" She still looked pretty stuck to him.

"If you listen to the metronome, focus on the seconds passing, counting them you'll realize you're not stuck . . . in the moment. It's not the same, it's not as bad. It might be better it might be worse, but it's not as bad as that moment you were stuck in because it's a new one, then another, then another." She repeated verbatim how that 'trick' had been explained to her all those years ago. She felt the pressure against her throat lessen, Frank was slowly pulling away.  
"I told you to stay out of my head." He sneered as he eventually removed his forearm all together. "I don't need your help, I ain't tryin to be saved. You got that?" Frank didn't want to be unstuck, he didn't want to lose a single moment with his family, even that last horrific handful of seconds.

"Guess we're two people who don't need saving" Cordelia slid down the wall she had been pinned against. "Shit." She buried her head in her hands.  
"You're crashing." He could see all the blood leaving Cordelia's body. She had been fueled on fight or flight adrenaline for a better part of a half hour, she had nothing left. "Here, come on Super Girl." He stuck out a hand to help her to her feet.  
"You can't be serious?" Cordelia scoffed staring at Frank's outstretched palm. "After all the shit you just pulled-"  
"I wasn't going to shoot you." Frank crouched down, getting face to face.  
"Not that . . . I knew that. I'm talking about the shit-"  
"You knew huh? So you just-"  
"Just took it. You're a gun nut Frank, you didn't stab Rocky cause you love it so much, you did it because shooting someone in your own apartment building is slightly dumber than stabbing one." Cordelia chuckled, pushing her palms against the floor she tried to lift herself up, she didn't fight Frank on it this time as he took her waist in his hands helping her to her feet.  
"Never said I was smart. I just do what I need to, what others won't do."

"So what? You gonna carry me bridal style to my apartment?" Cordelia pointed out Frank's hands hadn't moved, he was still holding her.  
"I ain't sweeping you off your feet. You walk ahead, I'll make sure you don't fall and crack your skull." His hand went from her waist to her back nudging her slightly. He did just that, watching her dutifuly as she made her way to their floor. He had finally figured out where she fit in, what was her spot in the greater scheme of things, black or white. Maria had placed this woman, that little girl square in Frank's life. She wanted him to look out for them, he had failed her once, this was Maria giving him a second shot to prove himself. _'Keep em alive.'_ Black and White, there was his mission at hand, and the white noise that was rest of the world. Cordelia and Dahlia had waded from one side to another, from white noise to black permanent ink, a mission.

"Dilly!" Dahlia had been standing in the door way. "Mr. Frank! Oooh stay here!" She squealed with delight before dipping into the apartment.  
"You had us worried Cordelia is everything alright?" Mrs. Bell could set a watch by Cordelia's return home from work on most days, any discrepancy was means for concern. "Hello, we haven't met I'm Tracy Bell. Are you a friend of Cordelia's?" The older woman placed a hand out for a shake.  
"Neighbor Ma'am." Frank's hands were deep in his coat pockets sticky with blood. "Can I use your bathroom?" Frank turned to Cordelia.  
" Go." She pointed at the bathroom door. He nodded first at Carrie, then to the babysitter. "Ma'am"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Bell I won't be late again, I should have called but I-"  
"He's cute."  
"Huh?"  
"Paul didn't tell me you had a boyfriend. Good for you, he's really the quiet type isn't he? Does he have a thing with germs? I shouldn't have-"  
"No. Nope it's nothing like that! He is just my neighbor-"  
"Don't worry I won't tell Paul, he would be so steamed to know his mother is more in the loop than he is."  
"Certainly are Paul's mom, making gossip out of nothing." Cordelia shook her head. "I'll see you tomorrow." She gave up on crushing the woman's hopes and dreams, and simply ushered her out of the apartment.

Cordelia found her indent in the couch, let the furniture consume her, enjoying just a moment to herself. "Dilly?!" That moment of rest didn't last.  
"Yes Dahly?" Cordelia closed her eyes as she spoke.  
"Where did Mr. Frank go? I drew a picture of him and Max and wanted to give it to him!"  
"Whose Max?" Frank walked up behind the child.  
"Your horse." Cordelia smirked and slowly reopened her eyes. "We tried to guess your horse's name."  
"Dahly guess was cupcake. Here" Dahlia handed over her artwork to Frank.  
"Look at that." Frank smirked as he took in the image with awe. His eyes locked with the miniature version of himself. "Like Fucking Frankenstien." He smirked, flashing the picture at Cordelia who simply nodded and laughed at his expense. ''But that dog." The dog in the picture had a smile, not the human being, the dog. "Cupcake?"  
"Horses all have ironic dumb names." Cordelia shrugged.  
"He's a dog Dilly! Can Max come over? Can we play? I was good last time!" Dahlia spun between Cordelia and Frank.  
"Super Girl?" Frank knew Cordelia did not want his dog stomping through her apartment, but he always had a hard time saying no to kids.  
"Bring in the stallion Frankenstein." Cordelia sighed leaning her head against her apartment wall.  
"Yay!" Dahlia jumped up and down in anticipation. Frank shook his head as he went to go get the dog.

 _'She's the real dangerous one.'_ He could hear Dahlia still jumping, the time he got in his apartment. "Hey Max look at this." He showed the dog Dahlia's drawing before putting it on his desk. "Lets go see Picasso huh?" The dog nearly jumped off the wall, brimming with excitement. Frank half walked half was dragged to the apartment next to his. "Relax! You're already on thin ice bud" He tried to cool the dog's energy but once Dahlia locked eyes with the beast that was impossible.

"Shhhhhh!" Dahlia ran up to the dog, hugging him but at the same time sticking a finger to Max's snout. "Look Mr. Frank Dilly's sleeping!" It was a rare sight indeed, Cordelia in her seated position was snoring lightly.  
"Hmmm." He nodded. _'She had a long day.'_ Frank smiled, whether she had fallen to sleep willingly, she did deserve it. "You two knuckle heads keep it quiet alright?" Frank watched as the dog and child rolled around on the floor.  
"We will." Dahlia loudly whispered.

Frank sat on the couch next to Cordelia, the weight adjustment startled and woke her up. "Dahlia!" She shouted as she tried to stand. A hand held her in place.  
"Sleep." Frank shook his head.  
"If I blink, if I breath-" She began quoting him.  
"They won't get her, I'll stop them I promise you that Ma'am."  
"I don't need you to protect us Frank."  
"You do need sleep. Just take it huh? Take a nap it won't kill you I swear."  
"What are you getting out of all this?" No one helps anyone in this day and age, Frank's selfless act was unnerving to Cordelia.  
"A break." Frank did not elaborate, Cordelia did not pry. "Now shut up and sleep."


	5. Knock Knock

Three uneventful days had past since Frank and Cordelia collided. Three quiet days, they hadn't talked much to one another, short of greetings in the hallway, Max had spent more time with the two girls than Frank had, which had much to do with Dahlia's pleadings. You would think a murder would have either brought them closer together or pushed them completely apart, but in reality nothing much had changed, except the knocking, the knocking was new.

As Frank took a reprieve from the slaughter, he made has was back to his apartment. He knocked twice on his shared wall with Cordelia. "We're alive!" She shouted back in response.  
"Twenty." And that's all that had to be said for mutual gain. For Frank he knew that the secondary mission of keeping Cordelia and Dahlia alive was going without a hitch. For Cordelia it meant she could catch a twenty minute nap, knowing if any threats to her or Dahlia were headed her way Frank would shoot it down without hesitation. It was an agreement that had happened organically over those three days, no planning, no words, it just seemed like the way it should be. They could keep their distance that they both loved so much yet still get what they needed from one another. It was effortless, it was comforting and it was tactical. Sure enough twenty minutes passed and Frank knocked on the wall again. "Cord?!" He waited patiently, listening carefully for her yawn.  
"I'll feed Max if you don't come back." To anyone else that statement would have seemed exceptionally morbid, to them it made sense, it even felt good, they had each other's back. With the exchange over, Frank iced over, preparing for battle and left.

It was lining up to be a fourth quiet day in a row as Cordelia mindlessly watched another consecutive hour of some generic cooking contest when the mundane was shattered, along with Frank's door. That crash caused Cordelia to shriek like a school girl as she contemplated who it could be. In her mind this had to be about Rocky it was no coincidence. Which meant it was either the Police or The Dogs, though she found the second fairly unlikely. _'He wasn't low on the totem pole, Rocky was under it.'_ So that meant it must be the police, which brought her to her second question. What to do? Shit was hitting the fan.

 _'Mind your business right? That's what Frank would want right?'_ Her argument would have been convincing enough for her if another sound hadn't bled through the walls: booming aggressive barking

 _'God Dammit that fucking horse will be the death of me!'_ Cordelia stood with annoyance. She could have in theory let them burn Frank at the steak but she had promised to look after Max, she owed Frank that much. Frank aside Dahlia would lose the will to live without her beastly best friend. "God dammit." Cordelia muttered aloud as she made her way to the door, cracking it open slightly. The barking had stopped.

"Ma'am get back in your apartment." A voice farther from Frank's than conceivably possible addressed her. How he had noticed her went over Cordelia's head.  
"I . . . don't take the hor . . . dog it's kind of half mine." It seemed so silly she knew the dog was the least of concerns for whoever had just made that ballsy decision to break into Frank's apartment.  
"I need you to tell me everything you know about your neighbor. Then stay far away from him, he's a dangerous man, he will hurt you." The shadows of the poorly lit hallway finally gave way to a hoodie clad man, who was approaching her door. Which she promptly slammed in his face, chain locking it.  
"You're not the police, you can't just be breaking in to people's homes." She spoke through the crack in the door.

"I'm not the bad guy here." There was a light almost jovial tone to the man Cordelia was staring at through her peephole. "I don't know what he told you but-"  
"You know all my years I haven't met a single bad guy? Everyone's a hero and saint, makes you wonder who they're all fighting." Cordelia was so confused. _'If he isn't a cop, and he's too . . . mild mannered to be a gang member then who the fuck is he? What does he want with Frank?'_  
"I'm no saint, I'm just a man trying to . . . trying to stop this guy from hurting more people. You know it's just a matter of time before an innocent person gets hurt, that person could be you . . . someone you care about." This speech was dragging on but it did cast doubt in Cordelia's mind, her thoughts shot to Dahlia for just a second. Then there was silence a long contemplative silence.

"Ma'am I need-"  
" I'm coming out don't try anything" The chain shifted to an unlocked setting.  
"I won't hurt you." Matt waited patiently as the door slowly opened. "Is the knife really necessary?" Cordelia was brandishing the biggest kitchen knife she could find, hoping this stranger wasn't as armed to the teeth as Frank.  
"I don't know a lot about the guy . . . he keeps to himself. He's about yay tall." Her arm strained as she exaggerated her estimation of Frank's intimidating hight, taking note when the mystery man's eyes did not follow her. _'Tell me he's fucking blind'_ She let out a sigh before continuing as if she didn't notice. "Dark hair, dark eyes you know just . . . dark in general." She shrugged as she described the boogeyman.  
"His name, what is his name?" At this desperate plea Cordelia paused again, was she going to betray Frank's trust? It was her and Dahlia versus the world, it always had been, nothing had changed right? _'That's just fine? Hell that's living?'_ Frank's taunt burned her ear drums.

"Why does it have to be you huh? Why don't you let the police go after him?" She was stalling but his lack of quality answer gave Cordelia the tell she didn't know she was searching for. "Let me guess, you do what the police can't right? Can I tell you how tired I am of hearing that shit?" Sometimes her people reading skills impressed even herself. _'Another vigilante, Frank's on his turf, this is all one big dick measuring contest. These fuckers are multiplying like gremlins.'_ She had won this chess game, she couldn't help but smile. "Look I make sure his dog is ok when he's out I don't have his social security number. He-"  
"Fine if you don't trust me call the police. Ask for Mahoney, tell him you have information on the Punisher." Matt would cut his loses, if she told the police he would pick up the information soon enough.  
"Punisher?" The monicker shook Cordelia to her core. It's not that it surprised her, or even that she thought it was too much, but it made everything that had transpired all the more real, it let her know it was only going to get more real, Frank was only going to get darker and she was being dragged into the darkness along side him, more startling, that seemed alright, she was oddly at peace with it. _'I'm no pixie either.'_  
"He's dangerous Ma'am. Stay away from him, that knife wouldn't protect you from me, and it sure as hell won't protect you from him. Don't tell him I was here that's all I ask."

"How very hero . . .y of you." Cordelia replied flatly, returning to the safety of her apartment, slamming it behind her. She stared out the peephole making sure he left then threw her obsolete knife on her floor. "Fuck!" This reality check had made Cordelia feel useless, confused even a bit scared, for her, for Dahlia, for Frank. That flood of worry was making her feel sick to her stomach.  
Cordelia only had about half an hour to try and calm her nerves, it was wasted effort though. They were about to be shot all over again.

Frank was making his rounds about the city, spending most of these long hours doing reconnaissance, even Frank's day was going quietly. When driving by his apartment building something caught his eye. _'Cops.'_ He saw two cars out front. _'Guess it was trash day.'_ He pulled into the lot, under the pretense he was unsure if Cordelia would crack under scrutiny. His timing was impressive reaching his hallway as her interview began.  
"Miss Bell we're sorry to bother you but were you aware-"  
"Cord what's going on?" Frank had stopped dead in his tracks, seeing his door was tampered with.  
"Frank!" She could see he felt trapped, he was looking for an exit strategy. "They're not here about your door Frank I told you no one took anything, just some punk getting his kicks breaking shit." She tried to fill him in best she could, letting out a sigh of relief when it appeared he caught the hint, resuming his approach.

"And you are?" One of the cops turned to meet Frank.  
"I live here." He pointed over at his apartment, keeping as much personal information to himself.  
"Then we can get both of you out of the way. Do either of you know a Sylvester 'Rocky' Angelucci?"  
"Yeah that's the biker downstairs, always hasslin Cordelia, I had to walk her upstairs just to get him to leave her alone." Frank was surprisingly upfront with the officers.  
"Well he was murdered the other day and we were wondering if anyone had any idea who would have done it?"  
"Pick a number." Frank snorted a reply.  
"Tragic but this city it's easy to make enemies . . . could have been anyone. Rocky was in a gang and-" Cordelia tried to be slightly more diplomatic.  
"Being a gang member seems to be a death sentence as of late." An officer cut Cordelia off, his voice seemed exhausted.  
"That's true I'm sorry we can't be of more help, we weren't exactly on friendly terms with Mr Angelucci. Are there many more questions? I have a piano lesson to give to and Frank is my ride so-"  
"Just asking around Ma'am. Call us if you think of anything alright?"  
"Sure" Cordelia nodded.  
"Will do." Frank agreed, appeasing the officers who moved on down the hall.

"Get in here!" Cordelia yanked Frank into her apartment.  
"Piano lessons miss Bell?" Frank seemed skeptical.  
"It's not a lie, I do them on the side for some of the kids on the block. A prostitute playing piano say that five times fast." She let out a nervous chuckle.  
"Your name ain't Bell. That's the old lady's name and she ain't your mother so-" He was a bit offended she thought that would slip by him.  
"I don't want them looking into me Frank. I can't let anyone take Dahlia away from me, I promised I wouldn't let anyone take her let anyone hurt her." Another thing that hadn't slipped past Frank was how intensely Cordelia's eyes lingered on him as she said those words, like she was trying to solve a Rubik cube.

"I wouldn't hurt that kid, you know that." Frank went from offended to his mainstay outraged.  
"You will." Cordelia stated with a defeated sigh, rubbing tense temples.  
"You think . . . you really think I'd hurt a hair on that kid's head?"  
"You're a killing machine, a death dealer . . . you're the Punisher-" Frank's eyes opened wide at the mention of his new title. His jaw clenched, someone had gotten to her while he was out, likely the same person who broke into his apartment, likely the same person Cordelia held the knife on the floor for protection from. His mission was faltering, he needed it back on track.  
"Cord who-"  
"And one day you'll die." Cordelia's mouth felt dry and numb uttering that sentence. "You won't ever raise a hand to Dahlia, but one day you will die and that hurt will be worse than anything she's ever felt, and I can't protect her from that." That looming sense of helplessness crept over Cordelia again.

"Did someone threaten me?" Frank was taken a back by how solemn Cordelia was acting, as if she was already burying him.  
"The whole city is threatening you Frank! You just haven't noticed because that's exactly what you want."  
"You don't know what I want." She was doing it again, she was probing his brain digging around in thoughts Frank didn't have time nor need to sort through himself.  
"Rule one of being a successful prostitute, everything goes easier if you know what the customer really wants. I always know what people want."

"That right? You know me so well? What I want? What I want is-"  
"To paint the roses red." Cordelia gave a defeated smirk, her head was hanging low.  
"What?" Frank's hands clenched in fists, his feet planted firmly as if they were about to square off. He detested how off guard she could put him with just a few words.  
"You want the world to see what you see, to hurt like you hurt."  
"Just the ones who deserve it, the ones at fault. My family deserves justice."  
"You're not dumb Frank. So you either know it and are ignoring it, or you simply won't allow yourself to see it. It effects everyone, what your doing, not just the bad guys, everyone. People are scared, or rallying behind you, even criminals have families the whole city is holding their breath because of you."  
"And what? You want me to stop? What do you want Cord?" He'd do anything to have those sad pond colored eyes to stop drowning him, almost anything. "Well let me tell you something I ain't stopping till god strikes me down himself. I got one foot in the fucking grave and I'm dragging as many of em down to hell with me before-"  
"Rule number two of being a good prostitute: It never matters what you want." Cordelia shook her head. "Go out in a blaze of glory Frank, if that's what makes you happy." She had a smile, disingenuous as it was it somehow dialed back Franks rage slightly.  
"This ain't glory, and I ain't happy. You done now? Get it all out, session over Doc? Now who broke into my place? Was it the dogs?" After such a serious soliloquy Frank was almost bowled over by the sound of Cordelia's hearty laughter, her eyes went from weighted to the floor to brimming with light as her sad frown turned to a Cheshire grin.

"You really do have a one track mind." She tapped a bewildered Frank between the eyes with her index finger.  
"Cord?!" He was not in a joking mood, he never was, but she did manage to get a flicker of a grin out of him.  
"You got competition Frank. Someone else is trying to clean up Hell's kitchen. Can't say I saw a blind vigilante coming . . . was that in poor taste?" She wanted to keep him here, in the world of the living, not chasing demons and ghosts, but as she previously stated, it mattered little what she wanted.  
"Red." Frank was out the door, he was done with this meddling do gooder.

"Frank?! What? You're not seriously going to shoot a blind guy in the face are you?" Cordelia followed Frank into his apartment, seeing it for the first time in it's disturbing militia glory. "Frank I think you messed up I see a futon which is clearly a missed opportunity for more guns, seriously some guns could really brighten up the place."  
"Can't ignore it anymore can you? This is a lot for you to take." Frank could tell Cordelia was nervous, she was deflecting with sarcasm, this was grizzly and macabre, she was out of her element.  
"It's nothing special." Cordelia's arm's crossed over her chest trying to hold onto her warmth in such a cold lifeless place.  
"You don't know me as well as you thought do you Cord?" Frank wanted this to sink in, wanted Cordelia to take in the gravity and finality of it all. She could analyze him all she like, no one knew Frank Castle.

"That so?" She could feel Frank pushing her away. She would not be dismissed so easily, she would not continue feeling helpless, she stood her ground.  
"If you did, you'd know I've already done that, already shot Red once." He raised a hand in the motion of a shooting gun.  
"Because of course you did." Cordelia rolled her eyes with a chuckle, he was betraying himself, push as he did, a small part of him was still pulling her in, didn't want to be in this completely alone. "Don't brag OK? It doesn't suit you. So tell me, how does a blind man dodge a sniper's bullet?"  
"Lapse in judgement." Frank's teeth were grinding.  
"Won't miss this time? It doesn't matter that you're on the same side? Because he broke your door?" Cordelia bombarded him with questions, trying to pry at his conscience.  
"What have I told you huh? About staying out of my head?" He turned away from her, as if her eyes were literally piercing through his skull. Frank grabbed his duffle bag shoving one weapon after another into it's abyss. "We ain't on the same side. I'm not on a side Cord. Good, Bad don't mean shit to me, there's just me and people in my way."  
"OK." Cordelia knew she was dangerously close to digging too deep, to releasing the animal inside of Frank, allowing it to devour him whole. "I'll get out of your way." She stepped away from him, giving him room to breath. "I'd love to stay and brood with you, but it's my night out. Dahlia's at Mrs. Bell's for the day and you're killing a buzz I don't even have yet."

"Cord?" Frank's voice was surprisingly not heated and venomous, just generally curious.  
"Yeah Frank?"  
"In that uh . . . Prostitute play book of yours yeah? Where does piano fit into that?"  
"It doesn't, there's no practical purpose for a piano playing prostitute." She lightened the mood, cut the tension by adding to her alliteration.  
"Then why?" It was Frank's turn, to take control of the conversation, make her feel uncomfortable. She could clearly see what he was doing, and felt it only fair, to let him pry where she hadn't given permission.  
"For fun, My . . . My Mom taught me how to play." She would allow it, but another of her rules, never give up complete control, so she kept her answers tight and to her chest.  
"You got parents." He wasn't getting pleasure in watching her squirm, but it did feel better, more even that they both had their walls being chipped at.  
"Yeah Frank I wasn't hatched from an egg. I have a mom, a dad . . . I had a family once." Her crossed arms hugged herself closer, the cold was attacking her from every corner.  
"What happened then? What put you out on the streets?" He dropped his bag, he unsquared his shoulder best he could, trying to portray he was listening, he was taking this seriously. For reasons he didn't evaluate he wanted to know more about her.  
"Life." Cordelia shrugged, her face souring at memories she had shelved with good reason. _'100, 99, 98, 97-'_

"I'll give you a tip Frank." She tucked those memories neatly away again and looked up at Frank, guard reestablished.  
"What's that?" Frank grumbled, displeased that he couldn't match her at verbal disarming.  
"You gotta have a soul . . . to dip into other people's"  
"Saying I got no soul Ma'am?" Frank took that as more of a compliment than he should have.  
"No you got one, it's under all this chiseled marble." Cordelia bridged the glaring gap between them, playfully knocking a fist against Frank's chest. "Anyone home?" She pressed her ear over Frank's heart listening to a cool steady heart beat pick up slightly. For another hiccup of a second Frank felt compelled to to something distinctly out of character, his body urged him to raise his arm, to hold her there, close to him. Frank follows no will other than his own, not even his muscles and bones, he fought against that urge and pushed her away.  
"Stop it!" His body did gain a small victory, his face wasn't angry or dismissive, he was smiling.  
"You're no fun." Cordelia smirked, she no longer felt the sucking cold, Frank had given her what little warmth he had.  
"Yeah, it's kinda my thing Ma'am" Frank lifted his bag, eyeing the door, hinting it was time for them to part ways. Cordelia nodded and left the den of death.  
"I'll feed Max if you don't come back Frank." She gave her goodbye.

"I'll come back." Frank might have been right in his earlier assumption, that Maria had placed Cordelia and Dahlia in his sights, and perhaps he was right in the purpose, that his wife was so intrinsically good that she wanted to save all the women and children in the world, but maybe there was more to it, that Frank's pessimism would not allow him to see. Perhaps she had dropped Cordelia in front of him, to be his anchor to hold onto that very small scarp that was more man than machine, perhaps Maria knew what he didn't. Hell's kitchen might need the Punisher, but there were people who needed Frank Castle, he needed to live not only for vengeance, but to live, he deserved to live, to hope.

He would hate that word by the end of the night, he could barely tolerate Cordelia questioning his moves and motives, Red's holier than though shtick boiled his blood. Frank and Dare Devil clashed again, both adamant that their way was the only way. The battle of brawn, will, hope and steel ended in a frustrating stalemate. Frank was livid by the time he got home, he had finally gotten Grotto but being knocked out by Dudly do right, sent home to lick his wounds hurt his pride more than anything else. _'Hope? What's hope get you?'_ Frank was pacing his floor, a slight limp to his gait. _'A hole in the head.'_ He lobbed his knuckles where the bullet had struck him the night that he lost all hope. _'Not again. I won't let him get in my way again. I'll get em, I'll get every last son of a bitch. Jail is for jay walkers I'll feed em to the worms'_ He punched his wall, cracking the ugly beige paint. His stewing stopped abruptly as his ears perked up to the sound of running water and counting.

"76, 75, 74-" Cordelia's shaky voice could only barely be heard over her shower.  
"Cordelia?" Frank boomed demanding her attention, but she didn't acknowledge him just counted on  
"73, 72, 71, 70-"  
"Cord if you don't answer I'll break down your door." Frank pounded his fist against the wall again, one could sense a twinge of panic in his demand.  
"We're alive." Cordelia strained out the correct response, her throat was tight, it was obvious she had been crying.  
"What's going on Super Girl?" Frank didn't know what to do, so he just continued to talk to a wall like a crazy person. He knew what he wanted to do, he wanted Cordelia to give him a target to strike down, he wanted a battle to win, he had gotten the short end of the stick earlier and he could use a punching bag, anything would do.  
"Will . . . will you come over?" The water had stopped, Cordelia's voice had calmed slightly. Frank didn't waste time with words, by the time she asked he was already at her door, dense fist threatening to break through by force.

After a few minutes of incessant knocking and floor pacing the door opened slowly. "Frank?"  
"Cord what's wrong?" Once the door was completely opened that question was irrelevant, replaced quickly with another. "Who?" Frank growled, a hand reach out tracing bruises circling Cordelia's neck, the hand pulled back incapable of remaining gentle, balling back into a fist.  
"Frank I don't need-"  
"Who?!" It seemed the two of them only knew a handful of words in this moment of blind rage and pain. Frank would not waste time, he went to get suited for battle, but as he turned to leave his wrist was grabbed by a shaking Cordelia.  
"Don't leave . . . please don't leave! You asked what I wanted? I want you to just stay . . . for a little bit?" Cordelia was pleading with Frank to go against every fiber of his being, all his lust for revenge and carnage. His breath labored, every muscle tense Frank glared at Cordelia, so much resentment at what she was asking of him.  
"Fine." Frank nodded with visible disdain, slowly following Cordelia into her apartment. He seemed cold and callous but he had to be, to really get through to Cordelia, to get out of her whatever she was scared to say. "Don't be an idiot Cord, just tell me what happened. I'm not playing twenty questions." Frank would stay long enough to find out who was putting his mission in peril, who was dumb enough to hurt Cordelia, who would die before the day was over. It was no longer enough to keep Cordelia and Dahlia alive, it was more than that. It was Cordelia Dahlia and Frank versus the world.


	6. Don't worry be happy

The soft green hypnotic hue to Cordelia's eyes were encased is blood burst red. Her usually sunny rust colored hair was drab, matted down over her face, still dripping wet. "Thank You." She could see how every one of Frank's muscles bucked against the idea of staying, of not acting, not retaliating.  
"Out with it." Frank's words were not soft nor were they comforting, but Cordelia hadn't expected them to be so, this is what she had asked for, someone to pull her by the hair, drag her from where she was stuck.  
 _'100,99,98,97-'_  
"Cord?! Is the kid-"  
"Dahlia's fine! I checked on her before I came home!" She was both shocked and offended by Frank's accusation that Dahlia would be in any type of peril while Cordelia moped around in her apartment.  
"Home from where? Just tell me where. This isn't on your hands." Frank didn't understand why she was dragging her feet, did she feel guilt over what he had done to Rocky? "Why are you protecting them? It the bikers wasn't it?" His scowl etched deeper into his features as he heard Cordelia chuckle.

"What a one track mind Frank." Cordelia was wringing out her hair, watching as Frank paced, slamming a fist into his palm over and over again. "Seems like I wasn't the only who had a date night go wrong. Lover's quarrel?" As jarring as Cordelia's injury appeared, Frank had her beat in both quality and quantity. His bruises had bruises, he could feel the queasy beginnings of a concussion and with each breath a different rib ached. There was a distinct difference, at least in Frank's head, he deserved this pain, had earned it, was built to endure it, in Cordelia's mind there was no such distinction.  
"Date night? You're still turning tricks?" Frank would not get duped again, he didn't take the obvious bait, staying laser targeted on this issue at hand.  
"Turning tricks? What is this 1986? I can't just have a one night stand go wrong? I can only pick up johns? Do you think I'd need to work at-"  
"Lover's quarrel? That's what you want me to believe? Don't pull that! You wouldn't get that wrong, you always know what people want" Again Frank would not allow her to flood his brain with options and scenarios, he was after one simple answer.  
"Lapse in judgement?" Cordelia was able to muster not only a shrug but a smile. It was working, he was her steady metronome, he was getting her unstuck.

"Might have a one track mind but you're a one trick pony Super Girl."  
"Was that a hooker joke Frank?" Cordelia chuckled whereas Frank was barely blinking. He had cracked her code, figured out her combo attack. She would cue into to the exact moment when he was on the edge of blind rage and pry, turning said rage inward, both on his own vulnerabilities as well as Cordelia's threatening need to gobble up those nuggets of humanity.  
"Stop fighting it alright? I'm not your fucking enemy here. Why won't you let me help-"

"Because you're not the _'helper'_ Frank. You're the punisher." Her tone was just as sarcastic as the air quotes she used.  
"You tellin me you don't think the sick bastard that squeezed your throat so hard your eyes popped like a god damn pinata deserves punishment Cord? That make sense to you? He could've killed you! You want him out there? So what he can finish the job? Do it to someone else?" Frank was irate, she was being careless. Would she really do that? Would she go and get herself killed, what was he supposed to do then?  
"I . . . " It was complicated, and Frank plus complicated would lead to a hailstorm of bullets and possibly casualties Cordelia couldn't afford. She had wanted him to stay, but as it dawned on her that she hadn't thought this through, it became obvious, for the collective safety of their misfit group of man and beast alike, she needed him to leave. Since she knew it would be impossible for Frank to just look the other way, that simply wasn't the man he was, she would make him leave, force him out. "Bad consensual sex is not punishable by death Frank. Half of New York would be in line for the electric chair if that was the case." She began to form her aggressive push, taking out the big guns sure to send Frank away seething.

"Consensual? Bullshit. You must think me a special kind of stupid huh? We're just going to pretend I didn't hear you Cord? You might just take shit as is, but not me I-" He was calling her out on her lie so white it was downright translucent. He knew what he had heard, the crying was secondary to the counting, she had been terribly shook, definitely hurt, that was crystal clear. Cordelia took a deep breath as she launched a shot bellow the belt.  
"Jealous?" She cringed at the disgust and loathing that word coaxed from him, he had stopped his pacing, pouring all his energy directly into that stare.  
"What?!" He was boxing her in, engulfing her in an aggressive stance, his head tilted to one side in actual disbelief. "What did you say?"  
"When was the last time you had sex Frank? What are you into? What gets you going?" Each word stung similarly to walking across glass, a dumb avoidable sharp pain she was steering herself right into.

Breath was stalling in Frank's throat, it was as if he was so angry he had forgotten how to breath.  
"Cord if you don't shut your mouth I'll-"  
"You'll what?" They both knew the worst he would do was leave and never speak to her again, that was a cut loss Cordelia was willing to make at the moment to keep everyone safe. _'Nothing much will change, barely talk as it is . . . we're not close . . . we're just neighbors, it's easier that way, Frank doesn't need friends like me.'_ Cordelia rationalized, willing herself to continue poking the bear that was Frank. "I must've really touched a nerve. You must be scared."

"Scared?" It was apparent she was baiting him, waving a cape of red in front of his bullish face. She wanted him to fly into a fit of rage and uncomfortable emotions and storm out of her life. Instead Frank dried the last bit of patience out of his already shallow reserve. Cordelia had miscalculated how much discomfort he was willing to endure to win a battle. They were both no longer holding back punches.  
"Of what huh? A whore?" There was a bitter bite to the scoff of dismissal at the end of that question.  
"Of intimacy Frank. Of what you might do. With a name like the Punisher who knows what kind of wild stuff you might be into." She took one of his heavy hands, she could feel his pulse close to busting from his wrist. She laid that hand across the bruises on her neck. His palm didn't remain there long, his fingers snaked behind her head, weaving into her damp hair, clutching her, holding her attention in a vice like grip.  
"I don't have use for shit like that. I don't have the time to just . . . sit around and get my rocks off. I don't want it . . . You don't get it Cord, I don't want to be happy I want to just . . . I had my shot at that, I had it all, and now it's . . . they're gone." He broke his stare for a moment as a wave of guilt crashed over him. He wet his lips slightly before forcing dry depressing words past them. "I have nothing Cord. Cept plenty of bullets and a hell of an aim. . . and I don't want anything else."

"But you do want to be happy! Fight and break and torture yourself all you want Frank, you're still only human and every human wants to be happy it's a law of nature. Now your scared . . . because all the things that made you happy only remind you of what you've lost. . . " Somehow when Frank grabbed her, the motive for dropping truth bombs changed. It was less about creating distance and more about having a breakthrough. He had unstuck her, in that one motion he had plucked her out of her wallowing abyss, she had to return the favor. "Now that part of you that wants to be happy . . . is searching around in the deep dark murky parts of you." She could feel Frank's hold loosen, she got lost, just staring at him in silence for a minute, awestruck that one could have eyes the size of saucers yet still somehow glare.

"Is that right? Is this where you tell me who I am Super Girl? Read my mind and tell me I'm just as bad as whoever-"  
"No." Cordelia shook her newly freed head. "I just . . . I did that trying to get to you . . . can't just be a one trick pony. "  
"So then what?" Frank was now desperately searching for answers, any answers, any definite, this conversation had lived far to long in the hypothetical realm for his liking.  
"Hmmm" She paused as she tried to dig deeper than ever before. This was a topic he hadn't shown even a sliver of interest in, she was fairly certain he wasn't even interested now, this was a test of will, a game of mental chicken.

As she placed both her hands on his bruised cheek she felt his whole body tense, he began to pull away out of reflex. "Don't worry I won't hurt you." Frank didn't seem impressed by her promise but still he needed answers, he would endure. He stood completely motionless, waiting for this moment of trust to be abused. "I guess we can take control related kinks off the table. I don't think control is something you very much like playing around with. . ." Frank snorted at the obvious statement.  
"When do feel . . .you know close to happy?" Cordelia waited patiently, feeling Frank's hand drop from it's hiding spot in her hair to precariously over her lower back, his fingers hovering close but never quite touching her, instead they slowly curled into a fist.  
"When it's quiet you know?" He finally spoke after a long dragging silence, even getting those few words out was a struggle. "When I'm done . . . I'm never done really though right?" He corrected himself with a tired chuckle. "I'm always on Cord, have to be. I can take a whole lot of em down and there's still more . . . always more." His free trigger finger twitched as it always did when he thought too hard.  
"But those few seconds you feel done?"  
"I can breath, really fill my lungs you know? I'm just gaspin all the fucking time and . . .And breathing that's fucking enough . . . that's close enough." He couldn't bring himself to say the word happy. His eyes were weighted, exhausted even, this conversation was taking everything out of him.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" Cordelia gave the war weathered cheeks she'd been holding a playful tap before finally letting him go, freeing Frank from her prying gaze. He had expected her to look sad or even appalled by his statement, but she had nothing but mild smile on her face. It wasn't joyous by any stretch, more a content grin.  
"What? You gonna get me an oxygen tank?" Frank didn't even understand what he had been going on about how could she have taken anything away from it? As it always did, it took Frank by surprise that amidst all the heaviness Cordelia could find a way to laugh.  
"What a sight huh? Big bad Punisher lugging around a tank of air like a geriatric? Maybe I'll throw in a walker, tennis balls and all!" When she finally stifled the giggles at the image playing in her mind she shed light on her true point. "Goes without saying Frank but you're goal oriented . . . you like having purpose, something that you can achieve and that gratifying finality of a win is . . ." She thought she always knew what made people happy, but this explanation was weak and slipping through her fingers like sand as she tried to add more, tried to figure him out, he was a puzzle with a few missing pieces. "I don't know . . . you're not the easiest guy to read! I'm trying here." Was it possible that Frank was right? There was nothing left in the world of the living to make him happy? _'No he can be happy I know it . . . try harder Cordelia. He has your back . . . you're letting him fall.'_ She squinted as if was trying to trigger actual telekinesis, trying to get any sort of reaction out of Frank, who still hadn't moved a muscle other than following her eyes with his own. "You're swimming against the current all the time Frank, you're spent you're tired, battered and bruised yet you keep swimming and can't stop, there's no end. To be happy you need something that is obtainable, something tangible. You want to come out on top, and a chance to be the victor is as important as breathing. Play twister with Dahlia if you need a guaranteed wining streak in your life. And at some point when you're ready there are plenty of lovely ladies out there with hoops for you to jump through, trials to endure to win their affection." She spoke slowly and thoughtfully, not wanting to lead Frank astray or worse yet upset him any further, she had pushed him far past his breaking point already .

It made sense, the terribly vague yarn Cordelia was spinning, as much as Frank wanted to dismiss it as bunk, everything she said was sinking in, hitting home, burrowing in that little spot carved out for his neighbors and Frank did not like that one bit, it felt like a betrayal to his family. "Cord I can't-" Wide eyed and shaken to his core he began to take long backwards strides, trying desperately to claw that spot out of his chest, begging for forgiveness.  
"Relax." In her most brazen move yet she trapped Frank, denying him his retreat, hugging him, nestling her face against his chest. "Relax ok? I'm not putting you on tinder as we speak. You're not ready to be happy . . . and that's ok." She gave him a reassuring squeeze, herself relaxing slightly as she felt his heart rate level out. "Just as long as you know . . . a little itsy bitsy part of you wants to be happy . . . eventually. that's all ok?" She pried her face from its comfortable resting spot, craning her neck slightly to lock eyes with him.  
"Ok." He wrenched the simple word from deep inside of him, tearing apart his insides on it's way up. He placed a paw like hand atop Cordelia's head, tussling her hair slightly. "Ok I tap out . . . you win." It took surprisingly less effort to allow himself to smile.

Cordelia's own coy grin had blossomed into a full fledged smile. "Sit." She pointed at her forlorn couch.  
"What? Why?" The change in mood was giving Frank whiplash.  
"Jesus do your trust issues know no bounds? Just sit. If I'm making you babysit me I might as well feed you. Pizza ok?" She didn't wait for an answer disappearing into her kitchen to find a menu to order from whatever place was still open. Frank after pacing the apartment one last time for good measure, examining some sheet music on the coffee table eventually did sit. He would not, could not get comfortable though, it was still nagging him.

When Cordelia reentered the room Frank dropped the bomb on her that she might have won the battle but not the war. "I ain't an eleven year old boy you know?" He glanced up at her as he mindlessly flipped through channels on her T.V.  
"What?" Cordelia again got lost in a small fit of laughter trying to imagine this hardened military man as any form of child.  
"You can't distract me with pizza." There was no laughter in Frank's voice. "I'll find him." His dark eyes were now transfixed on her neck, committing each bruise to memory. _'It will hurt.'_ His knuckles flexed and clenched as he watched her red specked eyes grow nervous.  
"Frank you don't-"  
"I'll wait." He patted the space on the couch next to him beckoning her to sit, promising her he would stay. "You can stick to that consensual bullshit if that makes you feel better, but when you feel safe telling me . . . I'll find him O.K?" Frank's face was solid, determined, and a bit annoyed, he hadn't made a compromise in what seemed like an eternity and he was remembering why, it felt remarkably unsatisfying.  
"O.K." Cordelia relented with a nod, taking a seat next to Frank, not thinking as she leaned her head against his shoulder. She sprang off of him before he could recoil from her touch. "Sorry."  
"Sorries don't do shit for anyone." Taking her skull in his palm he placed it back in position. "Just . . . it's fine." Much like the knocking, Cordelia using Frank as a resting spot was becoming the organic norm.

They didn't speak for a good amount of time after that agreement, both lost in thought. Cordelia wondering if she should explain to Frank what had happened, why she had done what she had done, her reasons were sound, almost virtuous. _'It doesn't matter why Cordelia . . . Frank doesn't give a shit about why. You did what you did, now you live with it. . . forever. He's got plenty of shit going on without your drama.'_

Frank was having his own inner dialogue. _'It's her . . . if it's anyone it's her. The hoops she's got me jumping through like a god damn show dog.'_ He recalled Cordelia's long winded explanation of what would make him happy. He wouldn't curb his appetite for vengeance for anyone else, just her, he was willing to adapt, to fight to stay in her life while he was content with the rest of the world passing him by. _'I won't ever be ready. Too much to make up for, she knows that.'_ He watched her yawn, her eyes dip then jolt alive. _'And she won't ever feel safe . . . but if we did, we'd be . . . something.'_ That notion should have brought him solace but all it did was cause guilt, grief, anger and that pesky hope to slosh violently around inside his concussed mellon.

They spent the rest of the night like that, dangerously close yet miles apart. Pizza came, casual conversation was had, Frank made as much room on the couch for Cordelia to lie down and sleep as he could and time passed. Things might have staid like that forever if they just remained hermetically sealed in that tiny apartment, but life had to go on and the door eventually opened. "Mr. Frank?" Dahlia's tiny mind was blown. "Where's Max? What happened to your face?Now you can meet Max!" Dahlia's priorities were firmly in order as her eyes shot up at a man who appeared far less enchanted by Frank's presence in Cordelia's apartment.

Paul Bell, son of Dahlia's babysitter, long time best friend of Cordelia was standing in her doorway, he had just been there to drop Dahlia off, and to read Cordelia the riot act for ditching him the night before. "I don't care who you are, just get the fuck out before I knock your fucking teeth in and call the cops." And now he was ever so nonchalantly showing Frank the door. Paul Bell was threatening Frank Castle, because to quote Cordelia, of course he was.

A/N: First and foremost thank you for all the positive feedback, it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Secondly I'm sorry for how kind of clunky this chapter is, it's a bit of a transitional chapter and was much harder to write than I thought. I didn't want to get stuck so I just pushed through it but I hope it at least made sense and that I will redeem myself shortly with bigger and better chapters.


	7. Nightmare on Frank's street

Frank stood slowly, trying not to wake Cordelia as he lifted from the couch, she was already stirring but she was not waking with the urgency she would have had she understood the gross misunderstanding transpiring in her door way. "Hey kid?" There was a dark ominous tone to Frank's voice, he planned to do bad things, but his voice had an even calm to it as he spoke.  
"Yeah?" All that darkness was lost on Dahlia who looked up at Frank bright eyed and bushy tailed.  
"You got anymore drawings? Of Max he-" Frank had said the magic word and with that Dahlia was zooming, running at warp speed past him as she answered.  
"Tons! I had to take the black crayons from Mrs. Bells cause . . ." And her voice trailed off as she disappeared into her bedroom.

"Dahlia don't-" Paul made an attempt to enter the apartment but was emphatically denied, there was a wall between him an the entrance, a wall named Frank. "Move Asshole." Paul gave a pathetically ineffective shove but Frank did not budge, not half an inch, he was planted, firmly rooted in the ground. "Cordy?" Paul beginning to feel out matched called out for his friend, Frank could sense Paul's nerves and pounced, he had Paul's jaw clenched in his right hand squeezing it with authority, making sure he had Paul's undivided attention.  
"What not going to knock my teeth in?" Frank dared him, wishing, hoping Paul would blink or breath. "Did you do that to her?" Frank wasn't dumb, and the sane reasonable part of him knew that was less than likely. Cordelia wouldn't trust Dahlia with just anyone, let alone someone with the means and motives to choke a woman out. Problem was the sane reasonable part of Frank had withered away, he had used all of that on her, on getting her unstuck. He was left with the part of him that didn't care to think or reason, that just had an unquenchable thirst to put down whatever came up against him, and Paul here was pressing all the right buttons. "Huh?" His practically rhetorical question was met with exactly he had secretly been hoping for. A fist collided with his face but much like the shove it was woefully useless, there was no give to the iron rod that was Frank's neck. He chuckled, the scariest of smirks slowly gliding over his face, Paul was done for.

"Oh shit Paul! Frank!" The crack of Paul's knuckles into Frank's jaw had finally snapped Cordelia fully out of slumber, she ran, tripping as she went, scrambling to stop the car crash unfolding in front of her. "Don't kill him Frank!" She was between them, hugging Paul tight, holding herself there as a human shield. "Please don't kill him! Oh Paul you stupid idiot! Please don't kill him!" She clung tighter, hoping that any of her pleas were reaching Frank's brain.  
"Cordy what's going on?" Paul made a mistake, his hand moved and Frank surviving on instinct alone could not exclude Paul as a threat to his mission. Paul's hand was snatched, being twisted back against bone and tendon as Frank watched his knees buckle in pain. It was almost as if Cordelia was completely invisible all Frank could see was Paul and all he saw in Paul was the punching bag he had been begging for all night. "Owww Owww let go! Cordy get him off me!" Paul's pain threshold had been met, he was begging, helpless as he waited for his wrist to snap.  
"Frank stop!" Cordelia at this point was basically holding Paul up but still she craned her neck trying to make eye contact with Frank, trying to snap him out of this blood thirsty trance.  
"Did you-"  
"No!" Paul's face was red as he pulled and pried, trying to get away.  
"But you know who did." Frank did have some lose justification for his actions, the way Paul had greeted him, wanted him out, Paul had also immediately viewed Frank as a threat, and if Frank was there protecting Cordelia and that was a threat to Paul, what did that mean his motives were? Where did his allegiance lie? It was weak circular logic at best but as previously stated Frank wanted action, wanted battle, he didn't want to sit down with Paul and talk about their feelings.  
"I thought you did." Paul's voice was teetering on a cry as he squirmed in pain, he could feel it, his anatomy was no match for Frank's brute force, but just like that the pressure was removed.

"What?" Frank was looking down at the man now sitting on the hallway floor clutching his hand to his chest like a newborn child.  
"I saw Cordy passed out and you just sitting there, beat to shit, all spooky-"  
"Paul I was sleeping. What in the fuck were you thinking?" As her adrenaline dropped so did Cordelia, sitting next to her fallen comrade.  
"Since when do you sleep? And why are you mad at me?! You're the one who brought the fucking terminator home! Why couldn't you have just left with the magician?"  
"Magician?" Cordelia was still so confused, how all this had unraveled into this clusterfuck.  
"The guy at the bar? Are you a magician cause when I look at you everyone else disappears? That guy, sure he was creepy but he wasn't the fuckin Bourne supremacy over here!" With his good hand Paul pointed up angrily at Frank who hadn't budged from his place in the doorway.

"Ok but . . . why . . . Did you say something to piss Frank off?" Cordelia knew that was another dumb question, she was sure Paul's sheer existence pissed Frank off, everything pissed Frank off. "And you!" Cordelia stood with an exacerbated sigh. "You can't . . . You can't just wail on anything with two legs and a pulse, you need to reign it in . . . You can't be-" Cordelia trailed off, she couldn't ask Frank not to be the Punisher, that's who he was. Sure there was a sliver that wasn't, that tiny, eventually wants to be happy piece but she couldn't ask him to just be that, just the good parts, the easy parts. "I don't need you to protect me Frank." She was rubbing her face, the day had just started and already she felt exhausted.  
"Tell that to your throat." Frank did not enjoy being scolded nor would he just stand there and take it, this was not entirely his fault. "I let you out of my sight for a minute and who knows what kind of dumb shit you get into. This one comes barging in threatening to knock my teeth in, has the balls to give it a go and-"  
"You hit him?" Cordelia spun around, her pity for Paul was dwindling as she smacked a palm into her forehead. "Why on God's green earth would you hit Frank? He'll eat you alive Paul!"  
"I . . . he's right . . . you do get into some dumb shit. I thought he hurt you and-"  
"And what Paul? And so what if I'm hurt? This world's a shity place it's gonna happen Paul . . . again and again and-" Cordelia's voice was faltering, cracking ever so slightly. She knew what she had been getting into, six years ago when she and Dahlia left the Dogs for higher ground, and she had been dealing with it, taking it, juggling all life threw at her, why was now every part of her life colliding all at once.

"Here they are!" Dahlia's arms were brimming with construction paper covered in her art.  
"Dahlia!" Cordelia ducked past Frank again and scooped Dahlia up in her arms. Immediately it came flooding over her, it was all worth it, the juggling the confusion, the hurt, it was all for Dahlia and it was completely worth it. "I love you a whole bunch you know that right?" Cordelia kissed Dahlia on the cheek.  
"I love you a whole bunch too Dilly." Just having her say that, Dahlia snuggling into her death grip solidified it further. She'd do it all over again, twice, and she'd do it all alone because she had to, because she was the only person in the world who would defend Dahlia to her dying breath, would love Dahlia with every fiber of her being.  
"You're hurt." Dahlia was a bit frightened by Cordelia's appearance, her eyes really did have a morbid look to them.  
"It's ok, I'm alright now." And she was, nothing hurt, she didn't feel dirty or guilty, if anything she felt validated in her choices.  
"Mr. Frank's hurt too were you in a car crash? Milo's dad was-"  
"That's a great question Dahlia." Paul cut off her rant, he was finally standing but still wringing his wrist. "How did you hurt yourself . . .Frank?" There was a heavy judgmental tone to Paul's voice but that was lost on Frank, everything was lost on Frank, he was lost.

Watching this out pouring of love should have warmed over Frank's icy heart, it just made it ache, made it stall out and bleed. In the back of his head it started, so soft it was almost ambient sound but he could hear it, that song like an oversized music box, the sound of the carousel. It caused him to look at Dahlia with a twinge of resentment, why was she safe, alive, doing what little girls did while his baby girl was rotting six feet under.

"Frank?" Cordelia called out his name, she was worried, she'd seen dead fish with more life in their eyes than Frank.  
"Oh here!" Dahlia was squirming in Cordelia's hold wanting to show Frank her dozen or so pictures of Max but Cordelia held her in place.  
"Mr. Frank's tired Dahlia . . . I'll . . .I'll give it to him why don't you and Paul pick out what you want for breakfast, I'll make you anything you want." Cordelia was sure Frank wouldn't hurt Dahlia, if he could see her, there in lied the problem. The way his face was twitching, his hands spasming grabbing and releasing at nothing Frank was somewhere else entirely, somewhere she couldn't reach him.

"Cinnamon toast crunch and hot pockets!" Dahlia shrieked, finally kicking and elbowing her way to the floor.  
"Shows her faith in your cooking skills . . . anything she wants and she asks for cereal and hot pockets." Paul swerved his slender body past the ice sculpture that was Frank. "Seriously Cordy, what's his problem?" Paul was dumbfounded out of the whole city why this guy?  
"We all have problems Paul."  
"Yeah but why is his problem your problem? You went thirteen years with one friend like the creepy loner you are and what you got curious? Wanted one of your own?"  
"He's my neighbor." It wasn't a very good answer, but at the moment it was all she had. "Just go." She gave him a light shove deeper into the apartment, farther away from Frank.

"Frank?" Cordelia waved a hand in front of his face, it seemed to have no effect till something apparently caught his eye. He snatched one of Dahlia's straight out of her hands. It was Max of course, and next to the dog was a princess clad in pink from head to toe.  
"What . . .what was it?" Frank was clutching the picture tight with both hands. "She was . . . what was she?" Frank's brain was tumbling, as the taunting sound of the carousel thumped against his ear drums he tried to remember.

He had been home, the time before last, it wasn't going to be for long but he had been home and was soaking up every second. It was Halloween, he remembered that. His son had been a ninja turtle, Leonardo, he remembered that, remembered carrying him halfway through the night because he was tired of walking. Lisa had been a princess . . . something pink, he remembered spraying that shit in her hair because that had to be pink too because she was . . . He blanked. He remembered, the spray hadn't really worked other than getting all over the bathroom, but she hadn't cared, she picked out that costume months ahead of time, she had to be . . .He blanked again, and the music grew louder. He remembered it was something from some kid's show he didn't get but try as he might he just blanked.

"Why can't I . . .What was she . . .I can't-" He continued mumbling.  
"Frank?" Cordelia wanted to help, wanted to get him unstuck, but how do you unstick a mountain that might as well be a continent away?  
"Why can't I fucking remember?" Frank slammed his fist into the wall, blood, his blood smeared against the beige paint. "Frank, it's ok-" She saw as his shoulders slumped inwards, could see his back rise and fall with every haggard breath. He was in pain, till this point Frank had seemed barely mortal, in this moment he seemed to be cracking.  
"Cordy?" Paul stuck his head out the door.  
"Not now Paul!" Cordelia shooed him away before mustering all her courage, taking soft quiet steps towards Frank as if he was a wild bear in the woods.

"O.K . . . O.K . . . You know that's what everyone tells themselves . . . That it's O.K . . . It's going to be O.K . . . Tell you the truth . . . Nothing's O.K . . . Hasn't been for a long time and . . . and it won't Cord it won't be O.K there are . . . there are things you can't fix, you can't put a fucking band-aid on and keep on going like everything's O.K. My brain . . ." He tapped a forefinger against his temple as he continue rambling. "Wouldn't let me die with my family Cord and now . . . it won't let me remember them, is that O.K? Either way you look at it I lose . . . I-"  
"You're right." Cordelia waited till Frank finally had to pause to breath. "It's not O.K . . . and it's not fair-"  
"Don't you-"  
"And you're right I don't understand." She beat him to the chase. "And I have to admit for once I can't tell what someone wants, and I'm not alone, you and that brain of yours are not on the same page, your brain wants to preserve itself . . . you . . . I don't know."

"Fat lot of good that does me." Talking to Cordelia brought the volume down slightly, but the song looped on.  
"What I do know . . . is you need some rest . . .and you need some space I can give you one, I can't make you do the other but I can heavily suggest it." As she placed a hand to Frank's back, he felt it, how incredibly worn and tired he was.  
"Rest . . . for what? What am I saving the energy for?"  
"To remember . . . to kill a bunch of people . . . to not kill Paul . . . to I don't know take your horse for a walk . . . to wake up tomorrow Frank, start there. If you need anything-"  
"I don't need anything." Frank opened his still broken door "Can you not be a damsel in distress for one god damn minute?" He edited his statement.  
"I can do that." She nodded, watching as he disappeared into his apartment, slamming his door behind him.

He wanted her to be wrong, he didn't need rest, he needed to keep going, but his bones ached, his muscles would soon give out on him, his head was about to burst. Between fighting Red, fighting Cordelia, snapping Paul, he had no fight left in him at the moment. He found his way to his futon and crashed. If he thought he would find peace in sleep he'd be sorely mistaken, he'd only be fighting some more.

He could still hear it, the song, but it was different, less mechanical . . . it was coming from a piano, not that junk keyboard in Cordelia's apartment, a real piano, the piano in his house, he was home. He walked slowly from the doorway where he stood to his den, sitting at his piano wasn't his son stashing cookies, it was Cordelia, playing that damn song.  
"You'd think you'd be sick of it by now." She didn't turn to speak to him, just continued to play.  
"You don't belong here." This house, his home was frozen in time, he had dreamt about it before, and it was never changing, always as it had been.

"Neither do you." And with a blink they were transported, in Frank's shithole apartment. Cordelia had a knife in her hand waving it around in the air in time to that music that still continued on. "Is this where you belong Frank? Surrounded by all of this?"  
"I don't want-" He could feel his heart begin to beat heavy, his palms begin to sweat.  
"You don't have to lie to me Frank. You don't know what you want anymore than I do. Not this? You sure? How about this?" This dream doppelganger was snide and ruthless, and gone.

He was back at the house, vertigo setting in from all the sudden atmosphere changes, but at least it was quiet, the song had stopped, but it quickly became too quiet, deathly quiet, just Frank and his pounding heart. After an eternity the silence broke, the phone rang. With no other option seemingly available, he walked over to it an unsteady clammy hand picked up the receiver, it was her again. "Did you think sending me away would bring them back? Do you think anything you're doing will bring them back? You're not that crazy are you Frank? If they did Frank, if they did come back would they even recognize the man you've become? You're not a husband anymore Frank, not a father, you're the Punisher and that's it. Tell me Frank do you believe in god?"  
"What?" All these rapid fire questions were laying into him like heavy blows.  
"What kind of god would take away your children? Your wife? Take away the good memories? But if there's not a god where does that leave them? Nowhere but the memories you can't hold onto. Maybe you're not the Punisher after all, maybe you're being punished."  
"Stop it!" He threw the phone to the ground, stomping the life out of it.

"Why Frank?" She was behind him then quickly snaking in front of him, there was no escaping her. "Is that what you want? For me to stop? Because it's hard? Because you have to use that broken brain of yours?! You have to feel things? You know all I want is for you to be happy. If you want I'll stop . . . and then you'll really be alone Frank, and again it will be all your fault! So tell me again Frank, tell me to stop!" She was screaming at him, by this point nose to nose with him she shouted. Frank woke up drenched in sweat, he struggled for several long moments to catch his breath, sitting up grinding his teeth angry at this loss of control, that was enough 'rest' for one day. As it was it happened to be enough sleep for three days.

But it was unavoidable, snipers need sleep, to stay focused to stay effective they needed to rest. He delayed it as long as possible but there's only so much coffee one man can drink, eventually he had to sleep, he had to dream. His house again, this time his bed, this time Cordelia was nowhere to be found, there were arms around him, he knew those arms. "You can't hide here Frank." This voice wasn't pointed or accusatory, it was soft, comforting, he knew that voice.  
"Maria."  
"You promised Frank." She planted a butterfly kiss on the back of his neck.  
"I promised." It didn't click what he had promised her but it didn't matter he'd burn the earth to ash if she asked.  
"You would make them pay . . . for taking you away from us."  
"I am. . . I will." He only hoped his determination was getting through in his tone because as they often did his words were failing him.  
"You're losing it babe." She held him closer, trying to transfer some of her sanity to him.  
"I . . .Yeah." He nodded closing his eyes, hoping this was finally the rest he had been searching for.  
"Frank?"  
"Hmmm?"  
"Did you really think you could replace us?" Her voice was still gentle, still calm, still nice, but that question broke Frank into a thousand pieces, he sat up in the bed, staring over at Maria who was just laying there like she had asked what the weather was going to be like tomorrow.  
"I wouldn't do that . . . I'm not." He was holding his head in his hands, he was so tired he could barely think.

"You're not getting it Frank." Cordelia was sitting on the edge of his bed, still in the pajamas he had last seen her in. "You get it right?" She addressed Maria, who nodded softly. "I'm not here to replace them." She leaned in, her face inches from Frank's. "I know what I am Frank." Her voice was a low whisper. "I'm just a quirky floozy, but that doesn't mean I can't show you a good time, I'm a bad person but I can make you happy can't I?" She kissed him, in his bed, next to his wife she had kissed him. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her off of him.  
"Don't." Frank was gulping hard, his heart and mind longed to stay with Maria, his body was aching for Cordelia.  
"Frank, you can't replace us." Maria didn't sound mad as she laid a light hand on his shoulder, still comforting, still soothing.  
"Tell me to stop Frank. Is that what you want? Tell me what you want Frank." Cordelia dared, kissing him again, once twice, a third time, he would pull away but she would not be denied, her hands were all over him, not soft like Maria's but deep, clawing and prying. Frank pulled his face away from Cordelia finally getting a chance to speak, though it was wasted effort.  
"Please." He panted out a plead, for what he wasn't sure. For her to stop, for her to continue, for forgiveness from Maria, for all of it. Before either of the women in his life could answer his request he woke up again, still aching all over, every single part of him. It took him twice as long to regain any semblance of calm, a cold shower and lots of slow breathing.

He avoided Cordelia for about two weeks after that dream, he felt like every half glance at her was adulterous. Perhaps that's why he couldn't remember, maybe there wasn't enough room in his scrambled egg of a brain and Cordelia and Dahlia were shoving their way in, pushing his family out. He still knocked, checked in on them, even let Max out to play with Dahlia, because you don't just abandon a mission, you complete it, no matter what, there's no other option.

Days went on and on and Frank just got more and more tired as he trudged through them. One day was finally different than the others, not in a good way, but any change would at least keep Frank on his toes. He was being followed, by the looks of it a member of the kitchen Irish. ' _Goin into business for yourself kid?'_ The Irish wanted their money, they were playing it smart . . . or at least smarter, they wouldn't have sent one fresh recruit to take Frank in, he knew they were coming, but this wasn't their plan. This was a punk with too much confidence, and no ability to realize he had gone from the hunter to the hunted. Frank had lead him astray, gotten ahead, deep in an alleyway, leveling an arm over a dumpster, taking aim and waiting.

Sure enough the freelancer turned the corner, sure enough shots rang out and sure enough Frank didn't miss, he never missed, down went the Irish, one shot one kill. There had been one thing Frank hadn't accounted for, how tired he was. That was the only explanation for why he wasn't the first one to fire his gun, the only reason he would allow himself to get shot. The pain was dull, barely registering over his all around ache, only the feeling of hot blood oozing from around his collar bone made Frank aware that he had been injured. "For fuck's sake." Grimacing as he turned his neck to try and get a better look at it, more annoyed than anything else. The bullet had gone straight through, he'd survive. He put pressure on the bleeding as he slowly walked to his van. Eventually he made his way back to the apartment building, each step was slow and heavy, he was wounded but more than anything else he was exhausted. He knocked on the wall as he always did, and then again he crashed.

"Frank?" It was Maria again, to his left. He was on his apartment floor, just laying there, bleeding.  
"Hey Frankenstein?" And Cordelia to his right.  
"Not now." He groaned. "I just . . . I need to fucking. . . sleep" He let out all the air in his lungs, the deepest of sighs.  
"You can't give up Frank. You're stronger than that." Maria was wiping some sweat from his heavy brow.  
"I ain't giving up Maria, I just . . ."  
"You're losing it Frank, losing your cool." Cordelia's fingers were digging into the fresh hole near his shoulder blade, causing him to grunt and curse in pain.  
"What do you want from me?!" He hissed through grinding teeth.  
"Hey that's my line." Cordelia dug deeper still.  
"Don't blame her Frank. For what they did to us, what they're doing to you." Maria continued to counter balance Cordelia's sadistic digging with light airy touching and petting.  
"That's not it."  
"What is it then Frank? Why are you pushing us away? Why are you so angry at us Frank?" He was sure her fingers were going straight through him.  
"I don't want to replace them, they're my fucking family Cord! I want to remember them! I don't want you to replace them."  
"Why didn't you just say so?" She pulled her fingers out, a huge smile on her face, she looked less vicious, more like the Cordelia he knew in real life, her ambush laughter taking him by surprise as always. "You always make things so difficult Frank. I can help you with that, I just want you to be happy."

"Keep spraying Dad" It was that Halloween all over again. It was Frank and Lisa crammed into her little bathroom.  
"I'm spraying. I'm spraying." The can hissed as glittery pink glue smelling dye crystallized on his daughter's long brown locks.  
"Is it pink? Princess Bubblegum has pink hair Dad!"  
"Yeah, Yeah I know she does. You look pink and sparkly Lisa." He chuckled as the container emptied.  
"And smart." She added with attitude.  
"What?"  
"She's smart too, she's pink and sparkly and smart . . .Princess Bubblegum can kick butt just like Finn and Jake." All those words were basically gibberish to him, he had no idea who any of those people were.  
"You're all those things Lis, it's perfect O.K? You're . . . Bubblegum " He hadn't blanked, he had remembered.

"See Frank? I'm not the bad guy here. You just made me that way . . .Jerk. I'm not trying to replace them, If you want to remember I can help you, it might not be pretty though, it might hurt." Cordelia had taken his hand in hers giving it a light squeeze. "  
"You can't replace us Frank, even if you tried, you couldn't." Maria leaned down and kissed Frank's forehead. "You can't live in the past and the present, you can't split yourself in two Frank. We'll be here, we are here, even when you can't remember, you're not just the Punisher, we know that, you have to know that too Frank." Maria kissed him on the lips.  
"You gotta wake up now Frank." Cordelia squeezed his hand tighter still.

His head was in her lap, as she held towels against his shoulder. "Frank?!" She had run over when she heard a thud from his apartment, he had hit the floor right after knocking. "Hey Frank wake up." She knew shaking him was not a good idea but she didn't know what else to do, Cordelia wasn't a doctor.  
"I'm awake, stop beating on me!" Frank groaned as his eyes fluttered open.  
"Scared the shit out of me." Cordelia let out a heavy sigh.  
"The blood?" Frank reached up a hand, sloppily palming the features of her face, she did look quite pale.  
"Yeah Frank the blood." She laughed, slightly leaning into his touch.  
"Sorry for the mess Ma'am, wasn't expecting company." His voice strained as he slowly sat up.  
"Should I have called the hospital?" Cordelia's stupid questions never failed, he simply scoffed at her.  
"There's the Frank I know. You've grown out your hair I barely recognized you." It didn't matter that her hand was covered in his blood, she couldn't help but run her fingers through the few inches of hair that had sprouted up in their weeks apart. He didn't flinch away from her touch, he even smirked slightly this was O.K.


	8. Go together like Kevlar and Disney songs

"Alright, you stay put for a second I'll be right back . . . don't die!" Cordelia broke their sole soft moment, wiping Frank's blood on her jeans, going paler still as she did so.  
"I wasn't . . ." Frank groaned as he rolled his injured shoulder. "Wasn't shot anywhere important." He lumbered to his feet, still tired, but the ongoing ache had wained to a bearable load. "The kid? Bring Max over, he's jonsing for his munchkin fix." He reasoned the only plausible explanation for rushing to his side then abandoning him. Max began to pant and pace at the prospect of seeing Dahlia.  
"Frank, One. You know I don't fuck with that horse of yours." Cordelia was halfway out his door. "Two you know how many times I've been shot? Zero. Zero times. And even I know there's no such thing as being kind of a little bit shot. You were shot Frank. Now stay there try not to bleed everywhere and don't die. You can bring the beast over for dinner."  
"Don't have much of an appetite." Frank shook his head, he didn't have time for a dinner date, he had to get back out there, the Irish were closing in, they were looking for him, that shooter hadn't lucked in on him, it wouldn't be long till they found him.  
"Then it's a good thing I didn't ask if you were hungry!" As much as Frank noticed Cordelia's diminishing complexion she could see Frank hadn't exactly been taking care of himself, gunshot wound aside. He had added more bruises to his collection, she couldn't hazard a guess the last time he slept or ate or did anything not self destructive. His eyes were as dark commanding and alert as she remembered but now they were also strained and tired, his skin was still tanned and tough as nails but he was also cracking at the seams. "Now Dahlia's locked in the bathroom and that little girl thinks you and that fire breathing dragon hate her so-"  
"Dragon?" Frank rolled his eyes, now she was just getting ridiculous.  
"I've gotta go get her, I'll be right back! You two are going to suck it up and eat dinner with her!" Cordelia disappeared.

With a cough from deep in his gut Frank pulled off his shirt, important or not he had to sew the injury shut. "What a god damn idiot. Knife to a gun fight." Frank cursed as he grabbed his patch kit. Sitting next to it was Cordelia's handy kitchen knife. It really sunk in, she had come over to his aide with no idea what she was walking in on, and had not even the beginnings of a good plan for what to do if shit hit the fan. Sure locking Dahlia in the bathroom short term seems like a good idea, keeps her safe, but what happens when Cordelia walks in on whomever tracks Frank's scent down first and her kitchen knife is no match for their gun power? Does Dahlia slowly starve to death clawing at the bathroom door? That likely outcome came all too quickly to Frank but he wasn't sure if it had even been considered by Cordelia.

The fact that Cordelia wasn't as calculatingly morbid as him came as no surprise to Frank. Even before the incident war had played such a heavy role in his life that he hadn't noticed when it began to bleed from his unconscious mind to his conscious one. The bullet that pierced his skull blew whatever barrier holding the two apart, now it was all he thought about, always at the forefront of his mind. That's why as he finished the first row of stitches he was mad, not at Cordelia and her piss poor planning, at himself for getting distracted for getting lost in thoughts and feelings. He could have, should have avoided all this. There was no need for her to be cleaning him off the floor, putting herself and the kid in danger. _'My fight, not their's'_

"Oh God fucking dammit!" The door swung open, Cordelia couldn't possibly get any paler so instead he skin started to take a pea soup undertone. "A little warning next time!" She managed to gag out.  
"This is my apartment you know?" He used her knife to cut the thread holding his flesh together.  
"If you want privacy fix your lock." She took a big bracing breath. "Do you . . . want me to get the other side?" Her fingers cringed inward at the thought.  
"Don't look all that steady Super Girl." He shook his head as he struggled to reach over his shoulder with the needle. "Why fix it if they're just gonna break it again." He tried to brush her off, but Cordelia was determined to help fix Frank. She snatched the thread out of his hands, gulping heavy before starting to sew.  
"Let me know if I'm hurting you." Cordelia offered though she knew she would hit bone before getting Frank to admit he felt pain like a normal human being.

"You expecting your blind friend again?" She tried to make small talk, as if any of this was in anyway normal.  
"Cord." Frank sucked any casualness out of the air as he said her name, his nose wrinkling as she tugged a stitch tight.  
"Frank." She attempted a scowl as deep and brooding as his.  
"Listen alright? I don't care if you hear them skinning me alive. Don't come for me next time."  
"Frank no need to be-"  
"Say it. Say you'll mind your own business." He was so adamant, so rigid in this statement his new stitches threatened to pop.  
"Frank you can't-" She stopped as she felt him reach over his shoulder, grabbing her hand in his, nothing would move forward till she relented.  
"It's you and the kid remember? Above anything else, I can take care of myself, don't get stupid over me. That kid needs you alright?" He would not budge on this.  
"Yeah." Cordelia let common sense smack her across the face. "I'll mind my own business Frank." When he finally let go she finished her wobbly stitch job.

"Don't throw yourself a fucking pity party! What do you want to die? You want to get shot to hell? Huh? I'm tryin-"  
"Shut up Frank I get it!" Cordelia cut off the lose thread with her knife, which even she had to admit looked like an easy bake oven accessory compared to Frank's arsenal. "I understand Pumpkin Spice butter too, doesn't mean I have to like it. I just . . . I feel fucking useless Frank. Here you are, a one man army taking on the baddest gangs on the block, saving who knows how many people. I can't even look out for just one . . . I can't have your back Frank. Admit it or not, you've been babysitting me when-"  
"Cord I needed-"  
"Needed to keep me safe right? Cause I'm a 'damsel in distress'." The bitter taste that label Frank had given her weeks ago left read all over her face. "The second you're in danger though . . . You're telling me to look the other way. . . And you're right, I couldn't help you if I wanted . . . I would try and fail and as a kicker right before you get killed I'm sure you'd super solider your way into saving me!" Cordelia was kicking herself from one corner of Frank's apartment to the other.

He remained silent for an uncomfortably long time, just staring at Cordelia, head cocked to the side, blinking thoughtfully. He was thinking, plotting out each of his next maneuvers, because this was a situation he couldn't shoot and punch his way out of. Frank Castle needed to use words to prove his point. He paced as he thought, finger twitching like always. What did he want to say? He found a fresh shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. Nothing, he didn't want to say anything, he was a man of action not words, but this wasn't for him. So the question changed, what did Cordelia want him to say? What would make her understand he needed her safe?

"You know they think I can't be killed. Like I'm death itself, coming after em." He started off slow and methodical.  
"Read the room Frank, now is not the time to gloat." Cordelia chimed flatly.  
"I'm a strong, hard headed son of a bitch." He continued on course. "But a bullet doesn't give a shit how stubborn you are. You see this?" He lifted a bulletproof vest off of one of the many miscellaneous crates littering his apartment. "This is what keeps all my blood and guts from spillin all over the city, what keeps me from kicking the bucket. That's what you are Cord."  
"Huh?" Cordelia had not expected a metaphor out of Frank and this one was getting lost in translation.  
"No one's ever going to notice, no one is going to care cause it ain't flashy like a gun or a bomb, but you're that part of war that saves lives, the part people overlook, underestimate. You're Kevlar, keeping me together when everything I'm doing is beggin for me to be mulch. Leave the fighting to me Cord, it's what I'm good at. Just be those few inches keepin me from a body bag huh? Can't that be enough?" He was trying, trying so hard to let her know that he was keeping her safe, not because it was something to do to pass the time, he had a need for her he up until recently hadn't known existed. For all this effort Frank was rewarded with Cordelia's laughter. At an earlier date this would have come as a bruise to his ego but he welcomed it, basked in it, knowing it was a sign of his success.

"Max I've created a monster!" Cord shouted at the dog who at the call of his name began to bark and leap, he was losing iss patience toenails scratching the hardwood floor with each jump.  
"You've created a monster?" Frank untethered Max nodding at the door.  
"Scary enough being a silent killer but now Frankenstein, now you can lay it on thick like the best of em." Cordelia was grinning as they left his apartment, finally some color in her cheeks. Was it enough? To be Frank's emotional support? No of course not, Frank had all of about three emotions, anyone could have been his 'Kevlar.' She had just been in the right place at the right time. But Frank was trying for her, she could do the same, she could try and let that be enough for now, till she found some other way to help him.  
"All thanks to you?"  
"Well I am the best of em!" Cordelia boasted as they entered her home.

"Isn't that right Dahly?" She hoisted the slightly frazzled child into her arms. "Aren't I the best?" It was Cordelia's turn to gloat, a way to mask her persistent insecurities.  
"You're the best Dilly!" Seeing no sickness or fear in Cordelia's face had a quick calming effect on Dahlia.

"Mr. Frank is alright sometimes too huh?" Cordelia started to make her way to the kitchen. _'Chicken noodle is good for a cold . . . what helps when you've been shot?'_ With her free hand she rummaged through her cabinets for something to feed everyone.  
"Mr. Frank?!" Dahlia knew what that meant and with that she half death dropped to the floor to greet Max who had been much to Cordelia's dismay jumping at her leg feeling woefully ignored. Mid pet Dahlia stopped, somehow there was something more important in the world than showering Max with unconditional love.

"Mr. Frank?" For the first time Frank saw a bit of unhappiness in Dahlia's normally cheery eyes.  
"What's up kid?" The more he thought about it this was the first time he had really spoken more than a word or two to Dahlia, normally she was too busy with Max to be bothered with boring old Frank.  
"Are you mad at Dilly and me?" She might have been young but Frank's avoidance of them hadn't gone over her tiny head.  
"I . . ." He paused, how do you tell a child the fact that she was alive was the reason for his distance, his resentment, his anger at her. "Yes." He would face it head on like everything else. "I was, not anymore, you don't got to worry."  
"Why?" Dahlia was not satisfied by Frank's attempt at a polite vague answer.  
"Sometimes grown ups get mad at people for things that ain't their fault."  
"Why?" Dahlia could do this all day.  
"Dahly don't be a nudge." Cordelia broke away from the pasta she had begun to cook, she wasn't cruel she would save Frank.

"Kid think what's the worst day you ever had?" Frank had meant it when he said he didn't want or need saving, he made a shooing motion at Cordelia sending her back in to the stove.  
"Hmmmm" Dahlia mulled over his statement. Frank was finding slight amusement in wondering what a six year old's worst day was.  
"Last week me and Milo got in a big fight, we were playing squish the lemon and he pushed me and-"  
"Now think about waking up every morning and the first thing you do is get in a fight with Milo. No matter what you do, how much you don't want to fight. You get in a fight every morning." He could see a long story coming a mile away and knew if he didn't cut her off there she'd go on for hours. "After you fight Milo every morning you see Cord, having a good day. It ain't Cord's fault you and Milo fought, ain't her fault that you keep fighting Milo every morning. Ain't her fault she's having a good day but you get mad at Cord, why does she get to have a good day and you don't?"  
"That's not fair." Dahlia was somewhat grasping the concept.  
"Ain't her fault the world's not fair."  
"Why aren't you just mad at Milo? Is your Milo a bully? Is that why you have a black eye? My Milo is-"

"Your boyfriend?" Frank knew how to defuse this question bomb of a child.  
"Nooooo!" Sheer terror was written all over Dahlia's face.  
" I was your age once. Only reason a little snot nosed boy is gonna push a little girl is-"  
"No!" She stamped a foot in adamance. "Dilly tell Mr. Frank Milo isn't my boyfriend!" Dahlia was bordering on hysterics.  
"Well not yet. I probably won't let you start dating till you're ten or eleven." Cordelia joined in on the ribbing from her spot at the stove.  
"Did you have a boyfriend when you were ten?" Dahlia buried her face in Max's fur to escape the torment.  
"Hmmmm Nah, Paul asked me to a dance when we were … thirteen?" Cordelia couldn't quite place the date, that whole year had been a big transitional period for her.  
"You dated Paul?" Dahlia's tiny face totem polled on top of Max's square skull, her body splayed out on top of his.  
"Took the words right out of my mouth." Frank's lasting image of Paul was him cowering on the hallway floor, baring a striking similarity to the stumbling scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz.  
"Oh now you two are going to gang up on me? Nope, not today. Wash your hands it's time for dinner." Cordelia as always kept any tid bits from her past short and shrouded in mystery.

When it was finally time to sit down, Frank approached the table slow and skeptical, waiting for something to go wrong. For a bomb to blow this apartment off the face of the earth, killing them all before he got to eat, but there was no explosion, no bullets, just spaghetti and breadsticks. It wasn't lost on him how out of place he was, how long it had been since he had a home cooked dinner but that didn't stop it from being pointed out to him mid meal. "Slow down Frank it's not running away." Both Cordelia and Dahlia had stopped eating to watch Frank barbarically shovel massive fork fulls into his face.  
"You like Dilly's spaghetti?"  
"Hey it's not that bad" Cordelia took note of Dahlia's awe at the prospect that someone wanted to eat her food. "I'm no Emril but I did use his sauce!" She took a forkful herself to prove it was edible. _'I can't win with these two.'_  
"It's hot." Frank spoke through stuffed cheeks.  
"Like spicy? I didn't add anything to it." Cordelia took another bite now doubting herself.  
"Nah like . . ." He finally had to swallow. "temperature." Home cooking aside, short of coffee Frank would be hard pressed to tell you the last time he had bothered to heat anything up past the temperature of the can it popped out of.  
"Nailed it." Cordelia rolled her eyes realizing she could have placed burnt toast on Frank's plate and he would have eaten it with the same vigor.  
"Can I give Max some?" Dahlia was not nearly as enamored with the second night of spaghetti that week, her partner in crime could be of great use.  
"I . . . horses eat hay not spaghetti Dahly." Cordelia sighed but simply did not act quick enough to stop Dahlia from taking a fist full of red goop and bringing it down to the dog sitting at her feet. "I don't know if I can handle this being a regular thing." Cordelia cringed as she watched marinara and dog drool rain down on her floor.  
 _'Regular?'_ Frank had finished his plate in short order and finally was able to take in the moment as a whole. He didn't have time to make this a regular thing, but he wished he did, he wanted to, he was feeling almost happy, almost alive. He was most assuredly still dead but this was the first genuine moment since he woke up he wished he wasn't.

Eventually the normal eaters at the table caught up with the ravenous Frank and just like that, dinner was over. Part of him didn't want any of them to move, to ruin the moment, but the girls were still alive, they had to keep moving, keep living. It seemed second nature to them but he had been six feet under so long this everyday ritual seemed outright alien to him. "Wash up Dahlia, you have to practice then it's time for bed." Cordelia's eyes traveled over to her sad little worn in keyboard.  
"Oooh! Mr. Frank! I can play I can see the light! want to hear it?" Dahlia was out of her chair, hastily washing her hands.  
"It's from a movie." Cordelia added when she saw no recognition in Frank's face. "Dahlia that's not practicing that's showing off. Now you can't-"  
"Just real quick please? Do you want to hear it?" Dahlia tried to sway Frank to her side.  
"I'm more of a piano man guy myself but-"  
"Dilly can play that one. She knows all the songs, she can even play I've got a dream. But hear my song first."  
"That's also from . . . it's her favorite movie . . . just assume it's all from Tangled." Cordelia decided to cut her loses. "Real quick Dahly, then real practice."

With that a much more willing Dahlia sat on the weathered stool in front of the keyboard. "O.K here it goes." Painstakingly slow notes filled the air. Dahlia's short breathed and unnecessarily loud voice following suit as she tried to impress her first audience in quite some time. "All those days watching from the windows . . ." A pause to adjust her small hands.  
"If you had started with your exercises that would have been easier." Cordelia couldn't help but interject.  
"All those years outside looking in" Dahlia continued on. "All that time never even knowing Just how blind I've been. Now I'm here blinking in the starlight." It wasn't smooth but it was still impressive to watch the young girl work. "Now I'm here suddenly I see. Standing here it's all so clear. I'm where I'm meant to be. And at last I see the light. And it's like the fog has lifted, And at last I see the light. And it's like the sky is new. And it's warm and real and bright. And the world has somehow shifted. All at once everything looks different Now that I see you" Cordelia had been siting, watching like a proud mother hen and most upsettingly she had been sitting there missing her cue. "Dilly?!" Dahlia cried out, how could Cordelia ruin her performance?  
"Huh? Oh no Dahly you're mistaken, I'm not singing." Cordelia shook her head vehemently.  
"Stage fright?" Frank smirked.  
"Oh no. Just a bad singer . . . might hurt the horse's ears." Cordelia did not want to open up another opportunity to be mocked for being bellow average at something.  
"Play I've got a dream Dilly! You don't have to be a good singer for that one." Dahlia tried to help Cordelia out.  
"Thanks." Cordelia chuckled.  
"We won't laugh. Right Mr. Frank?" Dahlia got up from her seat giving Cordelia the spotlight.  
"Scout's honor." Frank nodded with a level of determination and curiosity. He honestly was interested in the skill level at what appeared to be Cordelia's only pass time.  
"Ugh. If I play it will you practice . . . and will you stop encouraging her? Both of you just bad bad influences on each other." Cordelia sat at the keyboard, glaring at Frank and Dahlia.  
"Promise." Dahlia nodded.  
"Beginning to think you don't know how to play Cord." Frank taunted, eyebrows raised in question.

"Don't know how to play." Cordelia muttered under her breath, she could not let that stand. She began the intro to the campy Disney song but before even really getting started Dahlia cut her down at the knees.  
"You gotta sing the words Dilly, Mr. Frank doesn't know this song."  
"Yeah sounds catchy, might be a must add to the playlist." Frank smirked, as much as he teased he also felt oddly proud of Cordelia. Could she play? Could she cook? Could she sew a gun shot wound closed? The answer to all three was yes to varying degrees of success. What was he proud of her for though? What was impressive over a else? This was Cordelia's battle ground, she was fighting tooth and nail to provide a life for her and Dahlia in this gutter of a city and she was wining. Overcoming adversity and keeping her head above water. He also felt grateful that even just for one night he was allowed to leave his battle and be a part of her's. This wouldn't be a regular thing like she had casually implied but this night would keep that black hole inside of him at bay for just a bit longer. It wasn't bullshit even if he hadn't convinced Cordelia of that, she was Kevlar. she was keeping the scraps of life still lingering in Frank safe, safe from the city, safe from the gangs, safe from the punisher.

"I'm malicious mean and scary." Cordelia spoke the words with a heavy dose of reluctance and sarcasm as she started the song for a second time. " My sneer could curdle dairy. And violence-wise, my hands are not the cleanest But despite my evil look And my temper, and my hook I've always yearned to be a concert pianist." As Cordelia and Dahlia got caught up in the camp of it all Frank sat there, hunched over and torn, pride and gratefulness were light fleeting emotions, Frank needed something heavier.  
This was silly, childish, a waste of time that had no value to his mission, this whole night had been one giant distraction. Frank rarely got distracted, once his mind was set on something he was laser focused till completion. He especially didn't get distracted when a mission was at hand, and this was the mission to end all missions. Trouble was Cordelia and Dahlia were the distractions to end all distractions. Somewhere in his miscalculations he had made them a mission too. His bullet shredded brain couldn't make heads or tails of this conflict of interest, so instead he just sat and stewed.

Eventually Dahlia did practice, followed by a quick shower a prolonged goodnight to Frank and Max then she was off to bed. "I've never seen you stay in one place so long Frank. What's up?" Cordelia had expected him to storm off after dinner.  
"I got shot remember? Takin it easy tonight. That alright with you?" Frank was slowly getting eaten by Cordelia's couch. He was surprised by the look on her face, it was not alright.  
"I . . ." She was going to press Frank's out of character actions but she didn't, she held back, sure it was out of character but she didn't want Frank to storm off. "Sure." She nodded sitting beside him, leaning her head on his uninjured shoulder. An awkward half an hour of T.V passed before Frank couldn't take it anymore.  
"Something on your mind Cord?" Her unease wasn't as well hid as she thought.

"This isn't how you're supposed to do it Frank." Cordelia's eyes were solemn as she looked up at him.  
"Huh?"  
"You don't leave people with a good memory to hold onto . . . you burn em on the way out so it doesn't hurt as much when you're gone."  
"What are you going on about huh? I've been here all day, thumb up my ass. I can't stay here and play house as my shoulder heals up I ain't got the time-"  
"Exactly. That isn't you Frank, you're letting yourself breathe for a second because this is your swan song. You're planning something big aren't you? Something you might not survive?" She wrapped her arms around one of his, holding him in place as if there was a fire fight right outside her door, calling out to him.  
"I'm a tough man to keep down. It's ain't smart to bet against me." Frank did not deny that the chips had begun to steadily stack against him, that waves and waves of heavily armed men were out for his blood, but he would also not concede defeat. He had survived death on muscle memory alone before, he was confident he could do it again.  
"Say you do survive . . . then what?"  
"What do you mean then what? Then I go after the rest of em, till I'm done." He actually bothered to answer her dumb question this time.  
"Without Kevlar." He was missing what she was not so subtly hinting at. She could tell by the way he staid, how he was hesitant to leave that when he finally did, he wasn't coming back. "Just because you can lay it on doesn't mean you need to rip it off like that."

"It's tactical, nothing personal Cord. Why does everything. . . . every god damn thing have to be a fucking fight with you?" Frank didn't bat an eye this time, just running a hand over his annoyed head. The trick had lost it's allure, she had made sense of his thoughts before he had. The only way to complete his very much conflicting missions were to keep them separate. If and when he survived the kitchen Irish it would only be a matter of time till the next group of goons with too much time on their hands found out who he was, where he lived, that Cordelia and Dahlia were important to him. He had to find and finish off every last one of them if he wanted to continue to keep them safe. If she knew all that, had known it all this time she must have known how it was less than an easy decision to make, why couldn't she cut him some slack?  
"Says the man who is literally fighting all of New York . . . all at once, with a fucked shoulder. Yeah it's my fault we fight so much. I think I've been understanding as - "  
"Alright alright I get it." Frank realized that Cordelia was simply out of slack to give. "You understand though right? It's just gonna get worse Cord and I can't . . . .I won't let you-" His arm wrenched out of her hold as he slammed a fist into his hand.  
"We're holding you back." Cordelia sighed, she knew it, all those changes that any sane person would see as signs of improvement Frank was seeing as signs of weakness.  
" I need this Cord, I need it bad. I need em to pay and I need to be able to get just as down and dirty as they are. If you hadn't come bargin in like fuckin Rambo this would've been a hell of a lot easier but you just had to-"  
"So you were planning on outright ghosting us. You were planning on doing it right. I would have hated your guts Frank." Cordelia's laugh did not brighten the room like it normally did, instead it just added to the darkness.

It was true, before falling to the floor in exhaustion and having his epiphany he had planned on going to his apartment, feeding Max, getting prepared for his next fight and then moving on, keeping a safe distance. "Kinda figured you already did by now. You're a smart girl Cord didn't expect you to just sit around and wait for me to come to my senses you know?" He hadn't taken for granted how despite all of his actions she had without hesitation brought him in.  
"Don't kid yourself Frank. I wasn't sitting at the window sill waiting for you, I went on living just the same. So by the time you come back after what ever shit storm your running to now, things might be different I-"  
"Back?" Frank was baffled by that small word, there was no going back, only throwing himself forward, into the line of fire.  
"There's only so many bullets and warm bodies out there Frank, you can't hide behind that vengeance mantra forever, there has to be an end." Cordelia wasn't exactly lying but she wasn't exactly telling the truth either. She couldn't see Frank ever feeling satisfied, ever feeling adequately done but it didn't matter she was giving him what no one else could, a light at the end of this never ending tunnel. She couldn't help but smile when saw it, if she had blinked she would have missed it but for a split second Frank Castle let himself feel that hope he hated so much.  
"And when I get back-" He used definitive terms when in reality it was very much up in the air if he would ever make it back, but he could want, he could hope. "You might be here?"  
"Maybe." Cordelia gave a soft nod, it was rubbing off, she was wanting, she was hoping.  
"With the line of men just waiting for me to leave?" The levity finally returned as Cordelia laughed.  
"Maybe, I have a nice smile and a great personality or so people say."  
"That so?" Her answer to that question had no effect on Frank in the slightest. If by some freak happenstance he made it back to this couch one day it wouldn't matter if prince charming himself was in front of Cordelia on bent knee, Frank would come in and win her over somehow, prove to her all the time and effort she wasted on him was worth something.

Much like Maria and his kids Frank by no means viewed Cordelia and Dahlia as his but if any man thought that they deserved to have Cordelia laugh the way she did for him, pick their brain and search their soul like she did for him, touch them gently to take away the pain like she did, more than him they were sorely mistaken. If anyone was going to protect them, be there for them, be the body for Cordelia to lean on, if Frank was breathing and within earshot it would be him. It wasn't a mission, not yet, but it was a lofty goal.

Their daydreams of an improbable future were shattered by a knocking on Cordelia's door. Frank shot up, adrenaline surging from nowhere, fists clenched in ready fists. "Frank it's just-" Her mouth was clamped shut by one of Frank's palms.  
"Shhhhh! stay quiet hear me?" He waited for her to nod then without a sound approached the door. Staring through the peephole he saw the threat at the doorstep.  
"Cordelia? Did you nod off again? You really need to get a healthy sleep schedule. I was reading an article about shift sleep syndrome and it say-" The big threat was Mrs. Bell.  
"See Frank? Some of us have real jobs. I know you already shot a blind guy so it wouldn't surprise me if an AARP member is on list but please refrain from shooting Paul's mom, he already doesn't like you." Cordelia did her best to calm the beast.  
"Not him." Frank turned around, no seriousness had left his face but at least the hair had stopped standing up on the back of his neck.  
"huh?"  
"I don't care who I come back to in your bed. Not him, I'll shoot him right down." There was no love lost between Frank and Paul. "Hello Ma'am." putting on his least bone chilling face he opened the door to the older woman.

"Oh . . . hello there, I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Mrs. Bell shot Cordelia a cheeky grin. Cordelia buried her face in both her palms.  
 _'I'll never hear the fucking end of this.'_ She shook her hidden red flushed cheeks. "Let the record state, when you tell your bowling club . . . that I was fully clothed when you came in." Her muffled voice pleaded. Mrs. Bell was a perpetual gossip and while Cordelia gave little care of her public image it didn't stop grinding her gears the thought of Mrs. Bell and her friends sensationalizing her love life over wine coolers and bowling shoes.  
"Just givin Cord a ride to work Ma'am." It was only Cordelia who saw no humor in the situation, even Frank got a chuckle out of it. "Come on Max. Ma'am. We'll be outside Cord." Frank excused himself from Cordelia's apartment, nodding at Mrs. Bell as he and Max left.  
"So Cordelia-"  
"Please don't." Cordelia to avoid any awkward conversation went to go grab her work clothes and ran out the door. "I'll be home by six thirty."

Frank did just as he said, gave Cordelia a ride to her corner store, and then came their goodbyes. "So are you two just gonna live in a van down by the river?" Cordelia made no grab for the door handle.  
"Have to stop back, sort some things out . . . but something like that." Frank simply shrugged off the question, the less she knew about his plan the better. Why? Because when read aloud it seemed through and through like a suicide mission. For any man less than Frank Castle it most assuredly would be but he hadn't survived this long on luck, it was ingrained skill that had him triumph over insurmountable odds, he did have a sliver of a chance at success.

"Here." He pulled a folded knife out of his pocket. " This is a serrated Black Mule. If I see you with that damn kitchen knife again I'll lose my god damn mind." He watched as she took it with a hint of fear in her eyes. "It don't bite Cord just take it, I can't come to you all banged up again, no more just takin shit alright?"  
"No just become amazing at hand to hand combat and comfortable using your crazy crocodile Dundee knife." Cordelia unfolded the blade then quickly snapped it shut. "I didn't know we were exchanging gifts Frank, I would have gotten you something." She tossed the knife in her purse, still not making any attempt to leave.  
"Yeah like what?" Frank rose an eyebrow, he hadn't needed or even simply wanted something in so long.  
"Like a new coffee maker, yours is garbage, a microwave so you can have above room temperate food? A gray T-shirt to add that pop of color to your wardrobe? The possibilities are endless. It will have to wait till your coming back party." Cordelia rambled, knowing she had long over staid her welcome. "This will have to do for now." In a quick motion as to not be pushed away by Frank she leaned in and kissed him. The kiss wasn't soft or delicate or even tender, it was blunt and harsh laying into him hard like a punishment. At first Frank was lost in the sensation of feeling Cordelia's real life lips against his, eventually reciprocating, kissing her back, holding her face in his hands studying her features with his finger tips. Then he felt it, her face tighten and twitch against his, she was fighting off tears. With the deepest of regrets he pushed her off of him. "Come on Super Girl, don't crack on me now."  
"Don't forget us Frank!" She squeaked passed strained vocal cords as she opened the door. "Don't fucking forget to come back Frank!" The rusty door slammed shut. She couldn't ask him to stay safe, just over five hours ago he had been shot and now he was just walking it off. Everything she knew about Frank was from beginning to end unsafe. The best she could do was shout at him, pester him not to forget about them and hope it stuck.

Once Cordelia was inside the store Frank drove back to the apartment building. He sewed one last set of stitches, filled Max's food and water to the brim and burnt all the pictures Dahlia had drawn him. Except one, the first illustration of him an the mutt he stuffed in his pocket as he officially went in the wind, but Frank was no summer breeze, he didn't drift far or long, it was a short two days before he watched th Irish infiltrate the building just as he had expected. _'Mind you business Super Girl.'_ He waited to see how this would all unravel.


	9. Too much to do, so little time

"No, he pinky swore it was real." Dahlia was packing her overnight bag, it was Cordelia's night to herself. "He saw ninjas fighting on the roof across the street from him." She was vigorously recounting the story Milo had told her earlier.  
"Ninja's Dahly? Really? Don't be so gullible, I'm pretty sure it would have been on the news if Ninjas were running ramped in New York city." Cordelia rolled her eyes as she struggled to get Dahlia's arms to stay in her jacket she'd already wriggled out of once. "Though I suppose secrecy is part of the whole Ninja deal." She shrugged, chucking slightly at the morbid thought of Ninja's flying from roof top to roof top and Frank simply shooting them down. _'Don't bring a knife to a gun fight.'_ All joking nature left her body as she realized the group of unfamiliar men outside in the hallway had been their longer than she felt comfortable with . "Dahlia be real quiet." Cordelia put a finger to her lips.

"What are you waiting for him to open the door with crisps and a coke?" One voice was clearly more assertive than the others. Then she heard it, Frank's still busted door open and Max begin to yelp and bark.  
"Don't hurt Max!" Dahlia ignored Cordelia's one request instead opting to shout at the top if her little lungs.  
"Shit!" Cordelia cursed as dread filled her body from head to toe and her paper thin walls became frighteningly silent. The only saving grace was Dahlia was already packed to flee, they needed to run. _'Not out the door, nows not the time to be dumb Cordelia. Damn beast of burden.'_ She at least thought she knew why Frank had left the dog. Partially to keep Dahlia in the dark a little while longer that something was different, something was dangerous. Partially to use the excuse of walking Max to knock those last couple times on their wall, to let Cordelia know she was safe a few days longer. All that did nothing for her now.

She grabbed her purse that still held Frank's scary knife as well as her prized possession a two decade plus old Metronome and scooped up Dahlia in her arms. Quick thinking she ran to her window. ' _Fire escape? What are you going to do jump down. Who are you Dare Devil?'_ She did not attempt that feet, struggling to carry Dahlia and all their baggage down the twisting metal stairway with all the urgency she could muster. Halfway down she could hear pursuers clanking and shuffling after her. _'Fuck I can't out run them like this.'_ She had to make a decision and fast. Making it down finally she ran to the basement door, quickly sneaking back into her building, hiding behind the boiler.

Her heart was pounding out of her chest, she was neither physically nor mentally prepared for this. _'100, 99, 98, 97, 96 9-'_ Her mantra was interrupted by an opening door and slow methodical feet. _'We're going to die here in the basement of this shity ass apartment. I'm sorry Dahlia, I'm so sorry. I should have known better, should have staid just us.'_ Cordelia clenches her eyes shut waiting for her karmatic pull to seal their fate.  
"Come on out." The voice seemed slightly annoyed but more importantly it sounded familiar.  
"Frank?" Her voice was still hiding behind fear and loss of breath, it was a sham of a whisper.  
"Cord come out or I'll rip this place apart from the fucking rafters." There was anger in his tone but also just a twinge of worry.

He could see them, her hiding spot was not the most inventive but the lack of movement, lack of them running to him for safety was both concerning and insulting. Did they think while he was feet away from them they were in any danger? He saw them slowly approach from the shadows, Dahlia still held hard against Cordelia's chest, both pairs of eyes were wide and frightened. They didn't believe he would save them in time, that stung more than his emotionless face told.  
"Frank you left . . . we had to run." There was no fooling Cordelia, she could see right through him, poker face and all.  
"Yeah." He broke eye contact with her. He had made a miscalculation, he had gotten so lost in luring the irish into his web that he neglected to keep Cordelia and Dahlia out of it, keep them out of danger. _'Why would they trust me? I failed Maria, JR, Lisa. You're too fucking cocky you idiot.'_ Frank's scowl deepened, his finger actually on a trigger twitched dangerously. This was too much, too big of a cross to bear, too much thinking too, much feeling it was just too much for him to take, for the first time in quite a while Frank was feeling overwhelmed. "You should keep runin. You got somewhere safe to lay low yeah?" He knew there was now a clear possibility they'd use his connection with the girls against him. They had already taken Max there was nothing short of Frank watching them 24/7 that could guarantee it wouldn't happen to Cordelia and Dahlia. He couldn't do that, he'd have to sleep eventually and they'd prey on that moment of human necessity. Another variable always keeping Frank at peak fight mode, there was so much more he had to do, so many more people he had to take out before he would allow himself to come back to them, that's if they would take him back after all this. _'They don't deserve this.'_ He was the dealer of punishment but he had wanted to shield them from all of that, take on the brunt of it.

"What's going on?" Dahlia's voice was shaky, her face red, the girl was crying, for her, for Max, for Cordelia, even for Frank, thinking this was all her fault. "I'm sorry!" She sobbed.  
"Dahly it'll be o.k. I promise alright?" Cordelia put the girl down wiping some tears from Dahlia's red cheeks, even using her sleeve to clean her runny nose. "You're o.k. right? Mr. Frank came and saved our butts and now you're going on a road trip. How fun is that?" Cordelia tried to cheer Dahlia up before she hyperventilated, tried and failed to make their situation seem less terrifying, trying to seem like she wasn't afraid too. "Breathe Dahly, you got to breathe."  
"Don't make promises." Frank's words weren't angry, they were regretful. His frame was no longer stoic but weighed down with guilt and sorrow. Cordelia took her eyes off of Dahlia for a second to really take in how fractured Frank was, how unhinged he was becoming. In only a few days time he had changed so much from the man she knew.

 _'He'll forget all about us.'_ Cordelia's stomach sank. _'He'll forget who he is.'_ She could see clear as day that black hole slowly pulling Frank in, his toxic desperation for vengeance leaking from his mind to the very blood pumping through his veins, keeping him alive. "Frank you have to-"  
"You don't want to know what I gotta do Cord." Frank would not let her in, she might be able to see his emotions but he had to stay strong and keep her from influencing them, that meant not letting her speak. He needed to keep focused, on one goal, not Cordelia's words. "Take the kid, get somewhere safe. They're gone, they got what they wanted." His nose scrunched inward as he figured a rough estimate of what he'd have to go through to get Max back. _'Fuckin Sucker.'_ It had to be that way though, if he was allowed back it would have to be the four of them or nothing at all, or he had failed, simple as that. "You're gonna want to use the front door." Frank made sure Cordelia knew what was already glaringly obvious, there were two or more dead bodies left in Frank's wake. Frank was no super hero, he was a man, with a gun, a man with nothing to lose and only what kept him alive during wars oceans away to win the war he was waging now. Not a super hero, a one man army on a never ending charge.

"Yeah." Cordelia nodded as she regained her composure piece by piece. "Here Frank take this." She slowly approached the beast that was morphing from the husk of Frank Castle. Carefully handing him a item out of her purse.  
"What am I supposed to do with this?" His voice seemed more detached than even he had intended.  
"Set the pulse of your music!" Dahlia ran up behind Cordelia, knowing the answer took away from the unpleasantry of being in the dark gross basement.  
"It's a metronome Frank it's-"  
" I know what the hell it is. Why are you giving it to me?" He turned the worn pace keeper, looking at it at every angle, trying to figure out why he was holding it? Wondering how long it would take him to drop and break it.  
"The same reason the police officer gave it to me, the same reason his wife gave it to him. You know Mr. O' Dwayer doesn't even know the right tempo to a metronome? Got me off on the wrong foot it's not 100, 99, 98-"  
"Cord I don't who that is and I don't have time to find out. Now take your metronome and get going." He attempted to hand it back to her. Knowing it was some sort of heirloom made him ever more aware of how easily his less than careful hands could shatter it beyond repair. He didn't have time to be gentle, thoughtful, grateful. None of those things would get him that blood soaked vengeance he needed so desperately. Or bring him back to them, the people who were still alive and needed him.  
"To keep calm, to get perspective, to focus your thoughts . . . Mr. O' Dwayer had high blood pressure, his wife gave him the metronome because he would get wound too tight, too wrapped up in his job. He gave it to me to-"  
"Unstick yourself, yeah I know." If he could have mustered a smile he would have, if he could have expressed that he understood how much this meant to her and how much it meant that she was giving it to him he would, but he couldn't, he didn't have the time, the ability, the luxury to let his guard down. "Cord I get it, I might be crazy but I ain't stupid, I know you're worried . . . bout how I'm . . . What I gotta do. Think it'll screw me up. I'm already there Cord, no clicking sound is gonna change me back I-"  
"I might be stupid but I'm not crazy Frank. Only a crazy person would try and change you. I want you . . . It doesn't matter what I want but you can't . . .don't get lost alright? In that head of yours."  
"Lost?" Frank knew exactly what he was doing, he was anything but lost. "I'm good. I'm calm Cord, perspective is crystal clear. Was before I met you, I've always had my eyes set on what needs to get done."  
"And I didn't need your knife before I met you . . . haven't used it yet. But better safe than sorry."  
"If I take it will you go?" Frank didn't admit defeat so much as he knew debating the issue wasn't getting him anywhere.  
"I'll do you one better. If you don't want it when you're done I'll gladly take it back."  
"Fine." Frank snorted.

"Cord I got a question for you?" He didn't want to waste anymore time but he couldn't help himself.  
"Yeah?"  
"Your last name. O' Dwayer?" Frank seeing Cordelia scowl smirked ever so slightly, he had figured something out about her that she hadn't given up on a silver platter.  
"Don't ask stupid questions Frank." Cordelia was also a sore loser, refusing to admit being bested, instead folding her arms across her chest in a huff.  
"Castle." He didn't want her leaving cross at him. _'Dad's a cop, wasn't expecting that. Why call him by his last name?'_ Questions would have to wait.  
"Huh?"  
" Cordelia O' Dwayer you and that kid of yours-"  
"Dahlia." Ever being left out of their long winded adult conversations Dahlia had to squirm and chime in wherever she could.  
"Dahlia." Frank's smirk inched into a chuckle when he saw the girl's excitement at his simple acknowledgement of her name. "Need to get out of here. Out of New York if you can. Before I, Frank Castle drag you out by your fingernails. We clear?"  
"We've always been murky at best Frank but we're going. Come on Dahlia we have to figure out if you're gonna call him Mr. Frank or Mr. Castle now." She walked away from him, towards the door.  
"Can't we go with Mr. Frank?" As much as she loved Cordelia, as larger than life as she saw her Dahlia was still the most scared she'd ever been, and felt safer with big bulky Frank around.

"Kid I'm gonna do my best to bring Max back to you but you gotta give me some time. You behave yourself don't give Cord any trouble and I'll bring you a whole art set for your drawings alright?" Frank was not above bribing a child if it meant keeping them safe, getting them moving.  
"Come on Dahlia, we really do got to go. Frank isn't coming with us. I'll-"  
"Well maybe-"  
"And Mr. Frank can't come with us. Do you really think he'd fit in Paul's smart car with all of us? Hmm? Imagine that for a second." Cordelia bent down, tapping her finger into Dahlia's forehead, finally getting the rattled girl to giggle.  
 _'Of course he's got a fuckin smart car.'_ As strapped for time as he was Frank would make time to dislike Paul.  
"Now I know I might not be as terrifying as Frank, but I love you more than anything, and more than anyone ever will. Trust me I've seen people do some crazy things because of how much they love someone. I'll do whatever I have to, go as off the deep end as Frank if I have to all because I love you so much." She squeezed Dahlia tight kissing the top of her head stroking her hair as she tried to get Dahlia to really understand just how much she cared, just the lengths she'd go all for her. Admitting to the world she understood and to some degree agreed with Frank's means and motives.

It was back and it was festering at an alarming rate, the resentment, the guilt, the cold bone piercing loneliness it was hitting Frank all at once from every side, he was drowning in it. Back was the wrong word, it hadn't left, it would never leave, each heartbeat was sending it through every inch of his body at all times, he had just gotten so used to it. The cocktail of debilitating sensations was the price he was paying for having his heart pick up a pulse in the first place. He had grown to accept that constant mind crushing pain, he could function without it breaking him in half but this was too much. Akin to having that heart of his ripped out of his chest, shoved in his face, forced to swallow it whole. As much as it was the same, it was different this time, he may have resented Cordelia and Dahlia, envious of what they had, what he used to have, but he wasn't mad, all those feelings had flared up except anger. He needed this, he needed all this hurt all this reality, he had been going through the motions, he had let it get to his head a bit, believed his own hype. That while on his path for vengeance, nothing could touch him, he was bulletproof, indestructible. Watching that woman hug that child let it sink in, he could be dismantled, just like that, he wasn't strong, he was weak and he was tired and he had used up all nine of his lives not one step closer to making it up to them. His wife, his children, they were all gone and who knows how many of the people who were there that day weren't. He couldn't just go through the motions anymore, he couldn't float between two different sides of himself. Once Cordelia walked out that door, he had to let that black hole take over, grind him up, whatever it spat out had to be enough to get him through, to keep that painful heartbeat going till it was done, till it was all over.

"It's . . ." He had to clear his throat just to muster up the few words he had left before the Frank Castle they barely knew was swallowed whole. "Cord it's gonna be a while." He looked to his side, not wanting to see those weepy green eyes of hers, always trying to pull him out, trying to keep him afloat.  
"Yeah, I know." Cordelia could see it, feel it, there was nothing she could do about it. _'He'll forget all about us before that happens.'_  
"I wouldn't do all that you know?" He scratched behind his head, feeling awkward, out of his element, he was opening up when he knew didn't have time for that, he was being purposefully wasteful.  
"What?" Cordelia was confused, had he flipped the script? Was he the one reading minds?  
"I know you better than you think Cord. I know you're over there judging me, feelin sorry for yourself cause you think I'm some prick just toying around with you. Leavin, comin back, leavin agin. I wouldn't do all that for nothin. I'm just askin for some time Cord, that's all. Just give me some time huh?" He was as close to pleading as his core would allow.  
"Frank you can have all the time you want, hell all you got is time. I said I wouldn't wait for you, but that doesn't really matter does it?" As Cordelia shrugged it was Frank's turn to approach what he knew he shouldn't touch.  
"It matters. What you want matters, you ain't what you used to be, don't have to follow those rules anymore more. What you want matters." He repeated a third time for emphasis. "I can't . . . I can't give you what you want now, I know that, but just give me some time and I will alright? Now I ain't askin for you to be starin out the window like you said-" He tried to make a joke, but no one was laughing.

Cordelia reached a tentative hand up, taking a fist full of Frank's hair, clutching it tighter than was comfortable but Frank just stood there wordless, just waiting for an answer, he didn't deserve comfort in a moment like this. She tugged tighter still as if she was trying to pull him straight from his skin. What she wanted at the moment were the right words to say, words he wanted to hear, words that would save him from the punisher, but none came. The tighter her grip the less of a grasp she felt she had on him, he was slipping right through her fingers. _'I can't tell him it'll all be ok, nearly bit my face off last time I tried that.'_  
"You counin Cord?" Frank was left precariously hanging on the edge of his simple question, looking for anything in those weepy green eyes of hers. "You ain't gonna find your answer by tryin to pull my brains out Cord." And with that she let go, freed Frank, it really was hopeless.

"You ever think . . . we're too much alike Frank? We're just enabling each other?"  
"Cord you're nothin like me ok? Now's not the time for deep thinkin. Just cause you got chased down . . . that was on me not you. I won't-" It baffled Frank that she thought they had anything in common.  
"I'm not a street walker anymore but you're not a military sniper anymore either, yet here we are. Living by old rules cause they're all that make sense. I thought . . . I mean it seems like we're helping each other make sense of it all but maybe we're not, maybe we're just telling each other what we want to hear . . . to justify us being this way."

"Christ I never thought you'd stop talkin." Frank scoffed. "You know I ain't exactly got time for this little therapy session of yours so I'll try and make this quick."  
"Your compassion is overwhelming, way to win a girl over Frank." Cordelia scoffed right back.  
"You're the only one goin my speed Cord. You know I uh, I told Red we don't get to chose what fixes us. Right now, doin what I do, followin those old rules that's gettin me to square one. Makin it up to them. I got to Cord I just got to, and this is the only way. I know you ain't got the stomach to agree with what I do, but you understand the feeling. Like the whole world is moving in fast forward, faceless blurs racing to the future, always lookin for something shiny and new. Not us, we're moving frame by frame, makes it seem like we ain't gettin anywhere, but we-" He stopped to chuckle realizing by the look on her face that he was making little to no sense, there was a reason he was generally a man of few words. "Cord, you gotta trust me I ain't exactly been known as an optimist. I think we might be. That's why you're scared . . . to give me the time I'm askin for. You're working so hard to inch forward, you don't want to get stuck again. I'm askin, hell I'll say please if it'd convince you, because you're the only one with the patience to stick with me through this, to notice the little things that I'm too dense to notice. Because you ain't flyin by. Cord you gotta know I wouldn't ask you for time I wouldn't let you get stuck if I didn't know I could drag you out of it, I'll fight forwards backwards, jump through every hoop I have to. Parts of us are past fixin, we both know that but we'll get damn close, inch by god damn inch we'll get close."

"And I was going on too much." Cordelia smirked. That was all the conformation he needed, that smile, those eyes that were no longer weepy, they were holding it for him, that dumb hope he couldn't feel for himself, she was holding it, keeping it safe for him. She'd give him time, she'd hold out for the pieces of him to return because she knew there was hope. "Not sure you can handle my hoops." Cordelia mocked further.  
"You should see Cordelia hula hoop, she can go on forever!" Dahlia again found her way to lighten up the increasingly gloomy atmosphere. She couldn't make heads or tails of their conversation, all she knew was that it seemed sad and to be honest a bit boring.  
"For ever." Cordelia nodded. "The Wayne Gretzky of hula hooping. Dahly's getting pretty good too." Cordelia tussled Dahlia's hair.  
"I'd expect nothin less from you Super Girl." Frank reached out, the arm not holding the ever ready fire arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close. He rested his chin in the crook of her neck and held her there for a second longer. "Just . . .Please." As gruff and hardened as ever he forced that last word through, giving her all the humanity he had left, giving her some of the strength that kept him standing, he knew she would keep it safe, just for him.  
"You're wasting time Frank." She hugged him closer, not wanting to let go but knowing she had to. "Our time. It's us vs the world Frank and you're the only fighter here so-" She was giving him permission, she was letting him go, pulling away.  
"Don't do anything dumb while I'm gone Cord. I won't be here to-"  
"I won't do anything you wouldn't do!" She lifted up Dahlia and again made her way to the door.  
"That's what I'm worried about. You're not me Cord." He warned as they disappeared

He lingered a moment longer, alone, breathing for just a second, closing his eyes, a moment of peace before going back into the throws of war. _'Gotta let them come to me.'_ He had lost the advantage of tailing the Irish, he already knew the rough layout of the church but he didn't know where the gang had stationed their muscle. _'Fuckin Sucker.'_ It had been worth it, necessary even but it still threw a bit of a wrench in his original plan. Good thing Frank always had a backup plan and four more after that. ' _I'll kill em all every last one of em, and they asked for it, they're hunting for it. They think they got me, I'm comin for them.'_ Frank turned, ending his pep talk, ending the transformation. He wasn't Frank Castle anymore, Cordelia had taken him with her, all that was left was the killer they called the punisher.

He waited, motionless for hours, listening to that damn song watching carefree children and parents blur right past him, enjoying the present, moving into the future, but he staid, stewing in his past, just waiting. He would have waited all night but he didn't have to. They had come to him just like he knew they would. _'Impatient bastards.'_ He slowly turned his head finally acknowledging the man sitting on the nearby bench, a look of fake confusion read all over Frank's face. He might not be able to get anything past Cordelia but he had a mighty good handle on how to play the fool. It wasn't long before the confrontation fed right in to Frank's wheel house, gun shots. He struck first, taking out a handful of expendable thugs. Instead of feeling in complete control of the situation he felt woozy, his world was spinning. He had ripped out the syringe but it was too late the drug was already taking full effect, he couldn't see straight, gripping at whatever was in arms reach to keep from falling.

"Thanks for thinning out the heard." Frank squinted, trying to get a clear image of whoever was so calmly speaking to him, trying to hold his arm straight, get the shadow in his crosshair. It was no use, all his energy was focused on continuing to breathe, continuing to stand. "You're surrounded son. Now be a good lad and drop the iron." This voice that he couldn't put a face to was sounding farther and farther away, as Frank's vision grew blurrier, shadowy and dark.  
"Come on you seem like a smart one." Frank could focus just barely enough to see the tasers scope in on him.  
 _'Tasers? Fuckin Pussies. Whole city's run out of amo?'_ Frank couldn't dodge, his sharp reflexes had been dulled beyond use, his stubbornness however was as pointed as ever. Much like bullets though, tasers don't care how stubborn you are, fight and snarl and grunt all he wanted Frank could not overcome the volts surging through his body, it was too much. One last ditch effort, one last grand stand of strength brought him back to his feet, even that wasn't enough, even Frank Castle falls. With a hard lifeless thump Frank's already bruised face collided with concrete.

While Frank's long night was just starting Cordelia's trials of will had started hours ago. "Paul!" she had pounded on his door. _'Please be home please be home.'_ The door eventually opened, Paul still in boxers and T-shirt eventually relented, opening it up.  
"Jesus Christ where's the fire Cordy?" He groaned, Paul was a night owl and waking up before mid afternoon was not something he made a habit of.  
"I need two huge favors from you Paul. First-" Cordelia was speeding through words, tripping over them as they flooded out her mouth.  
"Relax Cordy." He could tell by her wind swept hair, her flushed cheeks, the fact that she didn't even have a coat on that she had ran here, that something was wrong. "You hurt or something?"  
"Paul Max is gone! Mr. Frank-" Dahlia was making more sense than Cordelia in the moment.  
"Why am I not surprised this has to do with G.I Joe? I told you he was bad news Cordy." Paul rubbed some building tension from the bridge of his nose. "Dahlia there's some poptarts in the cabinet go crazy." He allowed them sanctuary in his apartment. Dahlia looked up at Cordelia for permission when she nodded the girl made a mad dash for the kitchen. "Now I'm gonna put some pants on. I'm going to have a cigarette and you're going to explain what dumb shit he's dragged you into now." Cordelia had a choice to make, just take things as they were, like she always had and get stuck waiting like she would. Or push back, put up a fight against her cosmic pull. As she looked over at Dahlia, face coated with icing and crumbs waving feverishly at her Cordelia knew what she had to do. The right choice tore at Cordelia's heart, made her eyes leak. Is this what doing what you want felt like? She slowly walked to Paul's balcony like a prisoner on death row, waiting to explain herself. He eventually met her there, handing her a jacket. "So-"  
"First favor don't judge me!"

As the world came into focus Frank cursed. "Shit." Recognizing his surroundings he knew he was still unconscious, lost in a dream. He was on Cordelia's couch, her apartment seemed dark and lifeless.  
"I missed you too Frankenstein." She was back, the witch of an illusion that was the manifestation of Cordelia was sitting at her keyboard, playing scales.  
"Don't you-" She might have her voice, her face, he would allow her to take no more from the Cordelia he knew.  
"Do something about it." She was hammering each key with force. Frank tried to get off of his seat but he couldn't, the couch was made of quick sand, the more he struggled the more stuck he found himself. "Just like I thought, all talk and no action, what a soft fucking mess you've become Frank. Tasers? Really? Who gets taken out by tasers anymore? Kids dick around with those for fun. Did they run out of pepper spray? You could have done much better." She prattled on and on trying to get a reaction out of Frank but he simply sat there staring off into space trying to will himself to wake up. The only tell that he was in there at all was the way his nose wrinkled, his ears rose as his jaw clenched.  
 _'Snap out of it idiot. You don't have time for this.'_

There was a light knock at Cordelia's door. "Frank?" He couldn't ignore that voice, he never could.  
"Maria." Again he struggled against the confines of the couch, and again it was of no use.  
"We don't want any!" Cordelia slammed her palms into the keys.  
 _'Why?'_ His furrowed brow was aimed at the shaking door handle.  
"Frank let me in please." Maria's voice was ever soft and ever pleading. Frank wondered why his own mind was taunting him like this, keeping his wife just out of reach.  
"You don't get it do you?" Cordelia stood from her post, crashing down on the couch next to him. "Of course not. We're your conscience you neanderthal! Angel and devil all that corny shit. We're not real you idiot, I'm not real, she's not real, only thing real is you and you're real stuck, no good to anyone. I'm just trying to help you Frank. Gently being caressed into reality won't do you a lick of good. You need anger and violence, that's all you need, not being lifted out on angel wings. I'm trying to keep you from making the same mistakes. I'm not gonna beat around the bush, see you have to shout a little louder, be a bit meaner when you're living in someone's shadow."  
"It's not the same." Maria tried to keep her presence known but it was Cordelia's words sinking deep into Frank's skull.  
"It's fucking spooky how similar it is. You already left a women waiting while you went off to war. How'd that work out for you Maria? He made it all the way back but what did you get for all your waiting, all the time you gave him?"  
"Frank stay focused, stay calm." Maria didn't not acknowledge the low blow.  
 _'Wake the fuck up.'_ Frank strained his muscles, he wanted out, anywhere but here.  
"I get it, why you're taking it easy couch potato. It's not like your wife and kids will be any less dead now versus half an hour from now. And me? Oh I'm somewhere hiding like the skittish mouse I am, holding my breath waiting for you. Willing to wait a hundred years, or until the next time you need an emotional booty call." She ran her fingers through Frank's hair.  
 _'A hundred.'_ Frank was slowly picking up on the hints deep in her venomous words, even though his thoughts were still sluggish and foggy.  
"You know who doesn't waste time? You can't have nightmares if you are the nightmare." Her nails ran down the back of his neck causing goosebumps. "Be the Punisher Frank, don't half ass it anymore, really let the monster out. Nothing else, you'll survive if you just trust me." She was whispering in his ears, coaxing him.  
"Frank don't lose yourself." Maria's voice seemed so far away, so muted.  
"Get lost Frank, take them down with you. Kill them all. If you really meant it, that you want to come back, you have to go forward first. You wanted this Frank, this is what you want. I always know what you want, always let you have it." She bit he ear she had been cooing into. "Can't we count on you Frank? To keep your word? To do what needs to get done?"  
 _'Count.'_ The drugs were wearing off, he could finally think straight. "They'll pay." Frank grunted as he fought against the couch again. "Maria I'm-"  
"Don't lose Frank. You're stronger than that. You're not weak. Wake up, fight for your life, fight for us. Then live for you Frank! Please Frank we love you." The words pounded in his ear drums, it crushed him but he had to block her out.  
"There you go. It hurts now Frank, and your night won't get any easier, but go numb let it all go and it won't hurt as much. I'm not real but you know what is. You know your only chance for redemption is through a river of blood. Move fast enough and maybe you can get back to Cord before she turns into me." He could hear it as the room grew quiet and his senses sharpened, Cordelia's metronome.  
 _'100, 99, 98-'_

His head rose as footsteps approached, he was awake again, not Frank Castle but the Punisher. His breath was labored but he quickly got adjusted, scanning the crumbling room as he leveled out any remaining nerves. The threats the punches the torture, he endured it all. As more blood collected in his mouth he waited, mentally stalking. Spiting his weakness out with disregard on the floor, he'd bleed dry if he had to. "Don't think you're showin me somethin I haven't seen before. Cause your killing spree has all the signs of a man seeking retribution. Am I right?" The leader of the Irish Finn Cooley, tried to prove his dominance over Frank, that the marine was nothing special, nothing he couldn't stomp out with ease, that was his first mistake.  
"Okay Okay I'll tell you where your money is."  
"Hey hey I promise you, it'll be over soon. In a Jiffy." Finn leaned in close, his second mistake, he had gotten too close to the beast. Frank given any opportunity would strike, head butting Finn, skull to skull. Finn was wrong, he'd never met anyone like Frank, a mad man who was laughing right in his face.

"Oh I was hoping it would come to this." Finn was more than a little rattled by this newer, darker, more focused Frank, he had to change tactics, had to be more ruthless than simply promising Frank's death. He picked up and electric drill, the bit spinning menacingly.  
"Yeah? You gonna do it or you gonna talk about it?" Frank knew pain was coming his way but he accepted it, beckoned for it, he'd take pain over the ache any day of the week. Anything to keep his depraved conscience at bay. "I'm here! I'll kill every one of you bastards! Come on I'll kill you!" Frank watched as the drill shredded through his foot, as more blood was spilt, but he did not look on helplessly, though he screamed in agony and defiance it was all worth it, all part of his plan, at least he wasn't stuck. After the dirty deed Finn made a third mistake, he took his eyes off Frank, which fed right into his objective, he wouldn't have to wait much longer, hold anything back. He began to pick and pull at the stitches in his arm, the pain in his foot made this a far less uncomfortable endeavor.

Eventually Finn returned, a newer method in mind, seeing as nothing seemed to be working. "Bring him in." Frank's eyes opened wide for just a second, bewildered that luck had been on his side for once. _'Max. Don't have to chase after you like a dumbass.'_ Swallowing down another mouthful of blood, though his fishbowl eyes were fighting past bruised sockets he could see her clearly. That little girl, Dahlia hugging and nuzzling against the dog in front of him, not scared and bawling like he had seen her last, happy he could make her happy again and that would be all he needed to get a foot in the door, he would make the wait, the time worth it, restore their faith in him, buy him more of that precious time. That little part of him, that quarter of an inch inside of him rekindled, the ache was back.  
 _'Damnit.'_  
"It seems like you've taken a liking to this mutt." Finn felt he had the upper hand finally, he saw life and desperation in Frank's face. "If I don't get my money everything I've done to you I'm doing double to poor fido here." The drill nosily whirred back to life. Again Frank's ears rose, jaw clenched.  
"Hey let him go, just let him go you asshole. I'll tell you where your money is ok?" This act was coming to a close, he had taken his lumps now it was time to lay them to waste. Right after he got what he came for, the next step on his long path. "I'll tell you. Your money it's in a van on 48th and 10th. Just let him go you asshole."  
"He's an animal lover, how sweet. Take him out." Max was escorted out of the line of fire, he was alive and safe, Frank's mission was going according to plan.  
 _'Could've done without the new hole.'_ Wiggling his toes through the pain he measured how much that would slow him down.

The rest fell like dominos, swift and without hesitation. The van blown to bits, his binds removed by the razor he'd been saving in his forearm for a rainy day. The punisher was free, he was rabid and as always hungry for vengeance and he'd get what he wanted, one body at a time. Once he had a gun in his hands it was as good as over, clipping the Irish leader twice, just keeping him alive enough. "He's loose! Get down here. Jimmy! Shaun!" Finn called for reinforcements but they hadn't come fast enough, not that it would have mattered much if they had. Frank lumbered forward, the nickname Cordelia gave him had never been more on the nose.  
"You wanted this." Finn stated with bewilderment. No this wasn't what Frank wanted, what he had asked for, that dream had steered him wrong he had never wanted to be the punisher.  
"No I counted on it." He might not have wanted it but this is very much what he needed. "Now I can ask you face to face. Who was there that day? Who killed my family?"  
"Your family?" Finn still had one biting remark to leave Frank with.  
"Yeah"  
"Who cares." With a scowl and a bang Finn's face was gone.

Everything was moving so fast and Frank was uncharacteristically slow. The wind was taken from his sails. All this for what? Yeah he was taking the Irish out at the ankles but like running on a treadmill Frank was moving but getting nowhere. He was in pain, out of breath and just like that he was shot. He found cover behind a coffin top but he still felt so exposed, left out to dry. _'Nothin'_ He had given it all he could, allowed the black hole to take over, abandoned everything but the violence and received nothing in return. "One batch, Two batch-" The metronome was fine to get unstuck to get moving but that rhyme, slowed everything down, to his speed, to his aim, to his goal. "Penny and dime." More bodies fell.

He was still moving slower than he needed, he was still tapped, still tired. As much as it chapped his ass he needed the backup that Dare Devil eventually provided. "Alter Boy." Frank might have had no energy left but anything with a pulse he wanted to bring crashing down with him, he wanted quiet. They had made it to the cemetery grounds before Frank's body eventually gave out on him, till he truly had nothing left. "I think I might cash out." Even his stubbornness was fleeting, his iron will was rusting over. "You ever been tired Red?" It wad more than that, more than the tiredness, he had the guilt, his demons dragging his lifeless body down to hell as he explained how he had let his baby girl down. She had all the faith in the world in him. Had single handedly kept him on his feet, was the real fighter and he let her down. He was shit, worthless, directionless, he was no fighter, he was giving up never making it up to his daughter, never making it close. What did he really have left? What could keep him going now? Did he deserve to stand? When he couldn't even save them? He sniffled and openly wept because there was nothing else to do except remember. There was nothing left for him. No one needed a bullet ridden failure. A monster who couldn't muster a snarl, couldn't bear his claws. He was a ghost in the world of the living. Who could see him anymore? Who could reach him? Who would care if he stopped existing? As he closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, praying he wouldn't wake up a far away shout held onto him, gripped him by the collar, wouldn't let him go.  
"Max?!"  
 _'For fucks sake.'_ Frank cursed, he had been so close, so ready to let go but that was Cordelia, he knew her voice anywhere. She was waiting for him, she cared. She would piece him back together no matter how broken he was because she was waiting, hoping for him, not the punisher but that little bit that was still Frank Castle. That's what she wanted, worthless shit he was, failure and all, for some reason she wanted that. ' _What she wants matters.'_ He let out an exhausted breath. _'Why Cord? Why you gotta get in my head like that? Can't just let me be? Let me rest? She right? Can I not handle her hoops? Fuck this, she will haunt me wherever I go, she'll follow me right down to the fuckin pit. Super Girl comin to the rescue whether I want it or not. Just give me some time Cord, that's all I'm askin for. Just let me . . . feel done for a second, I just need some quiet."_ With that Frank slipped into unconsciousness.

Cop cars as far as the eye could see Cordelia knew she couldn't call out for Frank, she wanted to but getting arrested would do no good for anyone. "Max?!" She knew if the horse was galloping around Frank wouldn't be far away.  
"Ma'am this is a crime scene. You can't be here." An officer halted her frantic search for signs of life.  
"I'm looking for my dog. He went missing, I need to find him" She tried to slip by him, her plea was beyond over the top for a lost dog. Her hysterics did not phase him, he would not allow her to pass, would not budge.  
"And why would you think your dog is here?" He posed a valid question.  
' _He thinks I'm bonkers.'_ Cordelia could see concern, confusion but most of all annoyance in his face. _'First idea best idea.'_ Cordelia bunkered down, it was time for her skills to shine."You crooked false prophets have been after Max since day one don't think I don't know, I see what's going on. You want his secrets, want to suck out his brain, take his superior intellect. Jealous that he only talks to me! I won't let you take him, I was appointed his protector from the hundred thousand guardian angels!" He wanted crazy he'd get it in spades, she was a chameleon, she could be whatever the situation called for. Her eyes were bugging, appearing to look completely through above and around the officer as her hands flailed wildly in every direction. "Max?! The government is closing in! Choppers coming to lift you away" She pointed up at the news choppers above them. That's how she had known to go there in the first place, this firefight was anything but subtle, plastered all over the news, she knew Frank had something to do with it.  
"Ma'am I won't ask you again-" A sickly deranged smile lit up Cordelia's unhinged face. _'Max.'_ She could hear him bark, could see him run full tilt in her direction. _'You did it Frank.'_ She saw this as a sign, somewhere Frank was alive, continuing to fight. "I told you so, I'm not crazy. You're crazy, you're all crazy! This is all an illusion!" Cordelia reached out to grab Max but she was pushed away.  
"Ma'am step back or I will be forced to arrest you."  
"I will not! I will never bow down to your coin bureaucracy!" Cordelia had no idea what she was talking about but it was working. It was taking all of the officer's awareness and skill to hold the full energy pit bull from the crack pot calling out to him.

"Castle is contained looking for escort for the transport bus." A crackling voice emanated over the officer's radio. Cordelia's heart lifted, Frank was alive. The it quickly plummeted with a splat into the cemetery grounds. _'He's going to jail, they'll burn him at the steak.'_ The image of her placing her hand against plexiglass to get anywhere close to Frank came to mind. _'Life's shit like that.'_ She was still pawing at Max but her mind was elsewhere. _'Finally go after what you want, finally fight back and get tripped up flat on your fucking face.'_ When she had looked over at Dahlia earlier in the day, the way she had waved and did her best to smile, still scared, trying to sugar rush her worry away Cordelia made the most difficult decision in her life. Above all else as always she had to keep Dahlia safe, shit was hitting the fan at an alarming rate, it was only going to get worse, Dahlia had to be as far away from that as humanly possible. Secondly, Dahlia was looking to Cordelia for guidance, as a role model, as her only family. She didn't want Dahlia to go through the same struggles she had. She didn't want to pass on her cosmic pull. Cordelia had to show her that there's more to life than taking what the world gave you, that what you want matters, to go after it, pursue happiness, don't lock yourself off in an emotional bunker. That's why Cordelia had come here, came looking for Frank. She had no intention of fighting along side him, she'd be more harm than good in that respect. What she could do, that even Frank couldn't, that she wanted to do was keep Frank from destroying himself. That job had just increased in difficulty ten fold. _'The things I do.'_ She snapped back to reality as the officer addressed her.

"If I hand over the dog. Will you move along?" He had passed over the annoyance threshold. This was the biggest criminal take down since Fisk and he was missing all the action playing babysitter. The dog seemed to want to go with her, what was the harm?  
"Max? Is it time to go home?" She had never felt more alone than she did right then and there, No Frank, No Dahlia, she and Paul's relationship was strained. She would take all the company she could get, even from a dog she swore she didn't like very much. She reached out again, the officer held the chain away from her, waiting for an answer.  
"Fine." She grabbed Max's collar, squatting down allowing the dog to put his front paws on her shoulders, licking and barking at her. "We'll figure it out Max." She whispered as she leaned her forehead against Max's. "He says this isn't over. It's only just begun." She shouted at the officer who was tapping his foot, losing all patience. "Come on Max, what's the plan?" She began the long walk back to the apartment, trying to figure out the next logical step, how could they move forward now? How would they get unstuck.


	10. Deal or No Deal

She knew this day would come, actually she had been impatiently waiting for it. So when Cordelia woke up to rifles aimed at her she didn't shriek, she didn't hide, she yawned, reaching down to hold Max in place, he was willing to protect her with his life but she didn't need it. "Hey guys. How can I help you?" She wiped the sleep from her eyes waving lazily as she sat up.

It had taken nearly two weeks to completely sew Frank back together, another few days for him to regain full consciousness but as long as all that took everything else was moving at break neck speed. Hours after being awake he had been charged with a slew of crimes. It had taken only two days more for his representation to change, three days and some change after that for Karen Page to unearth and confront Frank with his past. In a little over two weeks he was all but ready to plead guilty. He was guilty, and proud of it. They could call him every name in the book, condemn him for all his deeds, his only regret was not accomplishing more. It all came to a screeching halt the next day, when Mahoney came in with more questions. "We're recommending our client use his right to remain silent." Foggy Nelson had quickly swooped in.  
"Cause he's been so forthcoming before now." Mahoney stared at Frank whose glossed over eyes were staring daggers into the blank wall in front of him. "Mr. Castle what is your relation to a one Cordelia O' Dwyer?" Though he knew what Frank's response would be he asked anyway.  
"Cordelia O'Dwyer?" Karen had been through every syllable of Frank's case and she had never seen that name.  
"There's no O'Dwyer on the victim list." Foggy was also caught of guard. Matt obviously could not see Frank's reaction but he could hear his heart rate spike just a bit and just as quickly level out.  
"Not a victim, we're looking at her as an accomplice. There's accessory charges being pressed against her."  
 _'Cord. I knew I heard her, knew I wasn't going crazy. What the fuck is she doing? I told her not to do any stupid shit.'_ Frank did not move a muscle, continuing to stare blankly. There was nothing he could do for her strapped to a gurney like this, but he also was not about to throw her to the wolves.  
"An accomplice?" This went against everything Karen thought she knew about Frank Castle.  
"Will the cases be heard concurrently?" Foggy was looking for anyway to shift some of the guilt off of Frank.  
"Who is representing her?" Matt took all the wind out of Foggy's legal sails. "Matt we've got enough on our plate as it is." Foggy half groaned half sighed, all together protested.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch Nelson. O'Dwyer is being represented by Marci Stahl from Landman and Zack."  
"Your friend must have deep pockets to afford Marci." One surprise after another bowled over Foggy who had been slowly shaking his head from the very beginning of the meeting.  
"She doesn't, neither do her parents but after not seeing your daughter for fifteen years I guess there's no price you wouldn't pay to keep her out of jail, cashed in some favors or so I hear. The girl almost turned it down."  
"Fifteen years?" Karen looked at Frank for any sign of acknowledgement, he just continued to stare, barely bothering to blink. "You want to tell them or should I?" Mahoney gave him yet another chance to speak. Frank's eyes lazily moved from the wall up at Mahoney, when they landed on their target they were cold and resentful but his response was lax, he simply shrugged.  
"No fuckin clue what your going on about." It was true, both he and Cordelia had deliberately kept each other in the dark about their pasts. Only dropping hints and calculated homages to what they had been through. As he waited for Mahoney to elaborate Frank felt guilty. He hadn't earned this knowledge through trust, forced it from her though difficult conversations, trading off secrets, it was being given to him, ever so casually thrown in the air. He felt he was betraying her. _'They don't fucking know her.'_ Frank's blood was boiling, muscles tensing. if he didn't deserve this well guarded information then these people who had never even met Cordelia sure as shit didn't. ' _I'll make it up.'_ He added this to the long list of things he felt obligated to make up to Cordelia somehow.

"Right. Suppose none of you heard about the birthday ghost out of the Midtown police station?" A room full of waiting eyes were all the response Mahoney got. "Late eighties a sub sect of the Dogs had a child prostitution ring going. Mostly kids from Meth head mothers that couldn't give two shits about em. Operation was sloppy at first, kids getting popped left and right. Same kids time after time. Kids had a habit of going missing before getting to child services though. This is before Fisk had a strangle hold on Hell's kitchen and unfortunately kids make for good money so-" "All the gangs had their share of dirty cops." Matt filled in the blanks. "One kid, real easy to pick out, only red head in the bunch took a strong liking to a beat cop: Eamon O'Dwyer. Would ask for him by name, wouldn't say more than two words to anyone else. Out of nowhere it went quiet, for months, gang got smart, had a better reign on the kids after one turned up dead. Then one day in walks the red head, asking for Eamon, saying it was her ninth birthday and she didn't know who else to spend it with. He went and got the kid pizza, wife came in, had bought a cake from the super market, instant birthday party. It goes the misses instantly fell head over heels for the kid. Party's over and because no crime was committed kid walks right out, break's the wife's heart. A year passes, everyone thinks the kid is either deep in the shadows or dead. Not the misses, not O'Dwyer either. Pizza, cake, even wrapped gifts for the kid, they waited for her. Hours pass, night's almost over and in walks the kid. Same as the last time, party at the precinct and then off into the night."  
"Why did she keep leaving?" Karen had not expected such a sad story.  
"Your guess is as good as mine. Stockholm syndrome?" Mahoney shrugged, this was a story heard from a guy who had heard it from another guy, there were pieces missing. "This time O'Dwyer gives her a key to his home before she leaves, kid visits every once in a while. The misses starts making dinner for three. A year passes again, it's time for her birthday, this time O'Dwyer is ready for her, party just like last time but this time O'Dwyer breaks all the rules. Takes the kid home with him, for good this time, girl didn't go easy, kicking and screaming but the shape she was in Eamon wasn't sure she'd make it to her next birthday and he wasn't taking no for an answer. Makes some calls to friends in higher places, threatens to expose the cracks in the system, career suicide if they called his bluff-"  
 _'Doin what needs to get done. Getting his hands dirty'_ Frank had a blossoming respect for this O'Dwyer character. He staid stone faced but Cordelia's story was dark and cruel, he wondered how Cordelia even learned how to laugh so effortlessly in the first place. 'Been takin shit forever Cord.' It hadn't been his fault but he would make this up to her too.  
"No one knows exactly how it happened but in a few month's time the O'Dwyers had adopted an eleven year old red head."  
"But the fifteen years?" Foggy questioned impatiently. They were all hanging on Mahoney's every words as he continued the ghost story.  
"Kid had a hard time adjusting, one day, kid's not a kid anymore, she's a teenager. Gets in a blow out fight with the parents, storms off. They haven't seen her since. Never stopped looking, wife still made dinner for three, even after he was offered retirement and everyone counted her for dead O'Dwyer went searching the streets for her. Every year, same day, the precinct has pizza and cake but the girl never shows, fifteen years pass, not a peep. So imagine our surprise Mr. Castle when we find your hide out-"  
"Ain't the fuckin bat cave. I got nothing to hide." Frank scoffed at how easily details got embellished. _'How's the kid fit into this? That worm Paul?'_ Felling guilty or not he wanted to make sense of all this new information, it was overloading his circuits.  
"Frank." Karen didn't want him to fly off the handle, to be the monster they saw him as. His face was emotionless but she could see his arms strain against his restraints wanting to break something or someone.  
"There's Cordelia O'Dwyer, asleep on your couch, with some snarling fuckin pit bull at her side."  
 _'She wanted to sleep. Felt safe there. Where's the kid?'_ Frank couldn't figure out Cordelia's game plan here. _'Stupid Shit.'  
_ "You don't think Frank has anything to do with her disappearance? That was decades ago, he was . . . you know . . . normal then." Foggy couldn't handle another layer of conspiracy being thrown into the mix.  
"We don't know what to think. That's why we were hoping Mr. Castle could explain the nature of their relationship. D.A is leaning in on her hard if-"  
"We'd like a moment with our client." Matt interjected, he now had a fair assessment on who this Cordelia was, he had met her before. "Please." He waited patiently to hear Mahoney's footsteps and a door open and close.

"Frank I know you don't care what happens to you-" Matt started but was quickly cut short.  
"It was only me. She doesn't have anything to do with it ok?" There was nothing more to say in Frank's eyes.  
"Then you gotta tell us Frank. Who is she?" Foggy pleaded for a simple answer.  
"Neighbor." Frank responded flatly. "Just a neighbor? What was she doing sleeping at your place. You have to be upfront with us. We can't let the D.A blindside us with something they know that we don't." Foggy would not be brushed off so easily.  
"Someone's gotta watch the dog when I'm out." Frank's lack of trust spread far and wide.  
"We're not judging you Frank we-" Karen always had the best luck getting Frank to open up but this was an uphill battle to say the least.  
"You think I give a shit what people think about me? What they say? Judge away, just leave Cord out of it." Karen Page was paradoxically similar to Cordelia. They were both morbidly interested in Frank Castle, but they went about it in polar opposite ways. Karen Page had all the facts, she probably knew what Frank Castle had for dinner three years ago that's how thorough her investigation was. Without context though, facts were only half the story. What she had to do now was present Frank with the facts one by one and use them to pull any emotions out of a corpse. She was finding out what made Frank tick one fact at a time. Cordelia was in the dark, blindingly pawing her way around as she traversed Frank's mind. She had just found out his last name the day they had parted ways. What she had was Frank's warped head and shredded soul in clenched fists, she could map out every inch from memory, she knew who he was now, not in the past, a person Frank was still figuring out as he went along. She would get those few and far between facts from prying and pulling, dissecting Frank's reactions and muted emotions. Karen's method worked best for the situation at hand. Much like bullets, much like tasers, the court system didn't care about Frank's thoughts and feelings.

"None of it's on her. That lawyer any good?" He didn't want Cordelia to go to jail for his crimes, he would not stand for that. Cordelia's way was long lasting, far reaching, it had drilled it's way into his broken bones, swirling around in his marrow. It was more difficult, more dangerous. He could in a moment's notice pull her down, punish her because who he was now, the reality of it all, Frank Castle was a ticking time bomb just counting down to an explosion. if there's anything Frank could appreciate though, it was fighting the impossible fight. _'Women and dirt bags. Still don't get it.'_ Frank snorted, now he had martyrs on each side of the spectrum trying to see the man behind the monster, trying to drag him from of his grave.  
"One of the best." Matt nodded, he knew that Cordelia was more than a neighbor, she was the woman who had stuck her neck out for Frank once before and she had done it again. "She can get Cord off? I'll say whatever those fuckers up the hill want. She can't go to jail. She ain't . . . She . . . doesn't belong there."  
"Sure sounds like just a neighbor." Foggy muttered under his breath, something he immediately regretted. Frank slammed his fists into the metal railings to his hospital bed.  
"This a fucking joke to you? Huh? Gettin a good laugh out of this?" Frank finally seemed less than ambivalent about something.  
"No." Foggy knew he had hit a nerve, he hadn't wanted to rile Frank up, he was hard enough to speak to as it was.  
"You wanted me to play ball. I'm standing at the fucking plate. Just make sure Cord doesn't get pulled down in the shit with me. It's my head they want yeah?" It wasn't much but it was all Frank could do to make it up to Cordelia. "Miss Page. . . I uh . . . I need a favor."

They were being amazingly understanding. They had bailed her out of jail, found her a lawyer but Cordelia couldn't go home with them. It wasn't as simple as just moving back into her old room like nothing had ever happened, a whole ton had happened in those lost years. They should have been livid with their ungrateful daughter, but they weren't. Hugs and kisses and dozens and dozens of I love yous were enough for now. She couldn't even call them Mom and Dad yet, she didn't want to taint them with the muck she had been living in. They had waited this long and her being forced out of hiding made it more understandable that it would take a while longer for this separated family to be whole again. It was a family trait, Cordelia could hold onto small slivers of hope, it seemed the O'Dwyers were simply made of it. "I'm sorry." Was all she remembered saying, again and again.  
"Cordelia we missed you so much, so much. I'm just so glad you're here again, you're safe. We never gave up looking for you Cordelia. . . we knew it." Mrs. O'Dwyer had broken down into tears. Never for a second had she believed all the pessimists that thought her daughter dead and in this moment she was validated.  
"It'll be alright Cordelia, all this will work out, we'll help you get through it. And whenever you're ready you . . . you come home alright? Just like before girly? You always have a place with us. We're family you know that right? We're not going anywhere." Eamon knew that look in Cordelia's eyes, they haunted him when she first came to live with them. She was nervous and guarded, worried there would come a point in the not so distant future that they would tire of her and send her away. He couldn't blame her for having abandonment issues, he would support her through it just like he had before.  
"We're family . . . got a paper that says so." Cordelia nodded, she still was trepidatious but she had to give them something, they deserved everything but this was all she could muster. Her world was spinning, pausing for even a second was a feat of mammoth proportion. That adoption paper had made it real last time, made Cordelia feel safe and at home with the O'Dwyers. She didn't need that paper anymore, they were her parents, as an adult that was clear as day. She said those words hoping it relayed what she wanted, that she knew they loved her, she couldn't embrace it with open arms but she knew it. As much as she loved Dahlia, unconditionally so, the O'Dwyers had with her, they had never given up and it looked as if they never would.

"They didn't even ask." Cordelia had been back in her apartment for about two days, the space now seemed endless and lacking life, it was as cold as Frank's place. She kept going over it again and again in her head. She was stuck. Her parents hadn't asked her where she'd been, why she left, if she was guilty of what she was being accused of, if she had encouraged, enabled the Punisher's murder spree, who Frank Castle was to her. _'Maybe they're afraid to ask. . . I'd be . . . I don't even know what I's say. Am I anything like their daughter? Who I used to be? I haven't been her in so long.'_ Laying on her couch she dropped an arm, petting Max blindly. _'Don't throw yourself a pity party Super girl.'_ She could hear Frank chastise her, it didn't help though, his voice rang bleak and hollow. She laid there pondering how to tie her past to her present, rebuild who she was before from what she was now. The contrast was jarring, she simply wasn't who she used to be. She had taken steps forward backwards, sideways, weaving in and out of the fringe of society. Most recently out of her impenetrable amour and into Frank Castle's dark blood soaked hands.

There was a soft tap on her door. _'Not Paul. Not the cops . . . Mom?'_ Cordelia stood, growing nervous. She wasn't ready, she hadn't sorted it out. She knew what they wanted, their daughter back, she could build that back up out of cobwebs and memories but not over the span of a long weekend.  
"Cordelia O'Dwyer?" A determined female voice called out to her, knocking more aggressively. Cordelia rarely had visitors let alone ones she wasn't expecting and didn't know.  
 _'Been meeting a whole new cast of characters recently.'_ Cordelia realized how much her small world had expanded in these few months.  
"Please I need to talk to you." This stranger would not be deterred. Slowly walking to the door, unenthused Cordelia opened it.  
"I was told not to talk to anyone" simple and as quickly as that Cordelia began to close it.  
"My name is Karen Page I work for Nelson and Murdock I'm-" She was holding the door open, continuing to pester Cordelia.  
"That's like three names in succession from the list . . . of people I definitely am not allowed to talk to." She was facing years in jail, what her lawyer said was what she would follow, it wasn't the time for Cordelia to play by her own rules, especially when so many things were on the line.  
"Please just a minute."  
"That usually works I bet. Batting your eyelashes as you swoop in under the radar." Cordelia was unimpressed, not phased by Karen's endearing natural charm, almost unnecessarily bitter over it. "I'm not buying whatever it is your selling so just back up and-" She had a introvert's demeanor before meeting Frank but his patience for people seemed to have rubbed off on her.

"He sent me." Karen was not a shrinking violet, she had plenty of fight in her and Cordelia had what she needed.  
"Huh?" Cordelia didn't much care who she worked for, where she came from, what had sent her here. Cordelia just wanted to be left alone, she was told to keep quiet and that's what she intended to do. _'What does she want from me? How can I get her out of my hair? Works for lawyers so it's gotta be Frank, his defense attorneys then? So many lawyers so much . . . shit. Haven't been this popular in years. Now people care what I have to say? No . . . they just think I know Frank, idiots, no one knows Frank. I can't give them all what they want, not all at once for christ's sake I'm just one person. Double dipping is never good.'_ As always Cordelia was rapidly assessing the pros and cons, the wants and desires, who she had to be to survive to the next day.  
"Frank sent me. He needs your help." Karen hoped that the only person Frank seemed to give two shits about felt the same. It had been all over the news, that Frank Castle was going to trial, that had made Cordelia O'Dwyer a hot commodity.  
"He tell you that?" Cordelia begrudgingly relented, allowing Karen Page into her apartment. Cut her loses and hear this woman out, that was the path of least resistance. "He ask for my help?" Cordelia smirked, it was almost comical, the prospect of Frank admitting he needed help from anything but a semi automatic weapon.  
"You know he didn't" Karen bit back, Cordelia's off put attitude was a slap in the face of the woman who had been running her self ragged.  
"Then don't lie, don't waste my time or yours. I appreciate what you're trying to do . . . for Frank most people wouldn't touch him with a ten foot-"  
"Frank needs your help. I won't waste anymore of your time because you're obviously very busy." She rose a skeptical eyebrow at the half dozen pop tart foils strewn across the floor. "I'll get right to the chase. I know the prosecution has offered you a deal in place of going to jail. We want you to reconsider. Testify for the defense as a character witness, you're the only person Frank has had any meaningful contact with since his family was murdered. We need you to explain where his mind is at."  
"He . . . talk to you? About his family?" Cordelia's aloof voice wavered. She was taken off guard, she hadn't expected this. Who was this woman? Did Frank trust her more? Is that why she was being so harsh? Because she knew she was being replaced by a newer, prettier, less baggage bogged model?

"I had do do some digging, Frank isn't the most talkative man but I confronted him . . . about the massacre. He told me, all the details of what happened that day." Karen nodded.  
"Seems like you already have what you need." Cordelia thought she couldn't feel more alone, but apparently she was wrong, this took her down a peg. "You know more than I do. You should be his character witness." She bit at the corner of her lip, trying to hold back the hurt.  
"I'm not trying to one up you." Karen could tell she had over shot her plea. She was pushing Cordelia even further away. "Think about it you weren't exactly . . . upfront with him either." Karen tried to smooth out the conversation with those facts she loved so much. "What?" Cordelia's eyes snapped from resentment and self preservation to sheer terror.  
"What did you say?" Cordelia gulped hard. _'He knows? He knows all about it? I didn't . . . get to explain.'  
_ "He doesn't think any less of you. It wasn't your fault he knows that, we all do. It didn't shake him, if anything he's trying to protect with everything he's got, I don't know how you did it but Frank really cares about you. He's willing to take all the guilt. Now I don't know what the D.A is promising you but-"  
"What does Frank think? About the deal?" Cordelia was great at reading people but when it came to tactical decisions she trusted Frank's opinion over hers. She got too clouded by emotion, and mutual gains, Frank didn't seem to have that problem, his moves were always streamlined and methodical.  
"I . . . He doesn't know." Karen tried to find the best way to say they were purposefully withholding that information from Frank. He had asked about developments in Cordelia's case and they had all been playing dumb.  
 _'They know he'd want me to take it. Mind your business Super Girl.'_ Cordelia's stomach was beginning to churn. _'Give or take Cordelia. Give or take.'_ Again everything in the universe was telling her to take the logical course of action, everything except for her hope for Frank. "I think you should leave." Cordelia needed time to think this over.  
"Whatever they're offering you . . . We're offering you the chance to help save Frank's life." Karen could tell she was losing Cordelia, she tried to shock the woman back to their side. They couldn't have Cordelia testify for the prosecution, who knew what revelations she had in her back pocket.  
 _'Be the half an inch that keeps me from a body bag.'_ Battling quotes from the out of reach Frank Castle collided between Cordelia's ears.  
"If you don't leave I'll-"  
"What's in the closet?" Karen scrambled, last ditch effort. Cordelia was stubborn alright.  
"What? Like my actual closet? Clothes . . . wrapping paper, assorted weird smelling candles." She didn't know why this was important but it was the first bit of information that she could not get burned by relaying.  
"Frank sent me here to tell you to look in the closet." What had taken Karen a few days time to visit Cordelia was the back and forth debate between her Foggy and Matt.

"What if it's something incriminating? Maybe he has evidence at her place that needs destroying." Foggy ever the pessimist was already bothered by how deep Karen had found herself in this case, in Frank's personal life. They had been through this before, he had gotten her to back off one day at a time, till the need to fight the good fight rekindled. Foggy was exhausted, it would help if anyone was on his side.  
"You think Frank's hiding something? What Foggy? He's not exactly subtle and-" Matt might have been blind but he had seen straight into Frank's soul the night in the cemetery. Frank may have been made of smoke, shadow and gunpowder but Frank was upfront, bluntly, violently so.  
"Maybe I could talk to her? If she knew how Frank was during the time of the killings, that could help right?" Karen was determined, she would force them to see what she saw in Frank.  
"Or . . . and hear me out here. She could know what I seem to be the only the only one here willing to admit. That Frank Castle is a psychopath, a blood thirsty-"  
"You saw him Foggy. He actually cared about what happens to her. He doesn't even do that for himself. If there's anyone out there with anything nice to say about Frank Castle post the day in the park, it's her." Karen might as well have already been out the door.

"I . . . O.K, lets check." Cordelia just stared at her closet door, wondering what could be on the other side. _'Please don't be a dead body. Please don't be a dead body.'_ The suspense was overwhelming as she slowly opened the door. "Shit." Cordelia's head hung low for a second.  
"What is it?" Karen didn't see anything that looked all too out of place in the less than organized space.  
"He's not coming back." Cordelia squatted down, picking up her metronome off the closet floor. "Frank has done some terrible things, he's killed a lot of people and he's going away for . . . well probably his whole life but if we fight back we can keep him out of general population, maybe even get him into a mental institution, get him the help he needs." Karen was speaking to no one, Cordelia was only barely catching every third word, her head was bursting.  
"Even . . . even if he hadn't been caught he wasn't coming back, he knew it." She clutched the metronome tighter. _'I really did create a monster. Laid it on so god damn thick I was swimming in it. Said what I wanted to hear all that garbage about coming back. How long did he wait till after I left? An hour? Fifteen fucking minutes?'_ She was so hurt, so conflicted, so angrily alone it took a double take for her even to notice the clunky mass of pink and purple plastic with rounded edges. _'An easel . . . For Dahlia.'_ Clipped on the board was a folded piece of construction paper. _'A note?'_ Cordelia quickly dismissed that idea, Frank wasn't a fan of the spoken word let alone putting thoughts to paper. As she unfolded it she felt a dagger thrust straight through her chest.  
"Who drew that?" Both Karen and Cordelia stared down at the crude drawing of man and beast.  
"Get out." Cordelia blurted out, eyes still transfixed.  
"Do you have a-"  
"Get the fuck out!" Cordelia was done playing nice. "Cordelia listen if-" "Now!" She was inches away from shoving Karen Page out of her apartment, but she gave her one more chance to leave on her own accord, which the tenacious truth seeker smartly headed.

Cordelia slammed the door shut, falling in a broken mess to the floor. _'Now whose playing mind games Frank? What does this mean?'_ Almost to prove to herself she wasn't numb she began to cry, sob, her whole body heaving with each wave of sadness. With no energy to stand she in a defeated motion crawled over to her phone. Dialing the number committed to memory, the call only lasted half a ring before being answered. "Hey . . . I. . . yeah I'm having a . . . it's a rough time right now. Can I . . . would it be alright if I stopped over? I need your advice on something." The conversation was short lived, of course her parents would allow her to fall to pieces in their home, of course they'd painstakingly glue her back together, they had been waiting fifteen long years to do just that.

"What's with the pow wow?" The interrogation room seemed smaller than usual. Cramped with Frank's broad shoulders, Karen's bleeding heart, Matt's city saving morals, Foggy's unwavering skepticism and the armed guard's less than subtle desire for a reason to single handedly take out Frank Castle.  
"Miss Stahl has requested a meeting with us Frank." Matt finally began to lead Frank out of the dark.  
"That's Cord's lawyer yeah?" Frank's heart rate spiked again. "How does . . . What I did . . . how's that effect her?" He knew she would understand. _'Hell she probably knew I was gonna do it before I did.'_ He couldn't stand for his family's slaughter to be kept under the rug one second longer he had declined the DA's offer, stomping it into the ground with a defiant boot. He hadn't accounted for Cordelia having charges pressed against her, in his defense he hadn't accounted on someone like Cordelia in the first place so when Karen told him to fight, he fell back on what he knew.  
"Well from the MULTIPLE angry, bordering on unprofessional phone calls I received, not well." Foggy had gotten quite the verbal lashing from Marci.

"That your legal analysis of this shit storm?" The previously mentioned woman entered the room, arms folded across her chest annoyed that she even had to be there. "Plead guilty, how complicated was that? Maybe you really are crazy." She bitterly addressed Frank, Marci always worked smarter not harder and Frank Castle was making her job exponentially difficult. "Marci that's not a good idea." Foggy wasn't sure if it was anatomically possible to kill someone with a look, but if anyone could do it he knew that person would be Frank Castle.  
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you-" If he hadn't had an eagle eyed peripheral vision he would have sworn that armed guard had tazed him. He felt that same sensation, volts and volts of electricity boring and simultaneously erupting from his pores. _'Cord.'_ She was right there in front of him her eyes were still holding it, that little scrap of hope just for him but there was something else she was holding, anger, such a small dose she might not have even noticed it was there but Frank did. She had been angry with him before, hell all they did was argue. This was different though, she wasn't angry with his words, with his actions, it had transcended that, part of her was angry with Frank as a whole. Her actions solidified his hunch, even she didn't know that anger was there.

"Frank!" Cordelia nearly stumbled towards him, knocked off balance from shock. She knew he had been in the hospital, injured that night over a month ago but how broken chained and numb he appeared, she hadn't expected that. Two arms gripped her shoulders tight, pushing her back a few paces, it was the guard, this room really was too small to hold all of them.  
"Hey get your hands off of her." Frank's muscles moved before his head, he tried to stand even though he knew he was shackled in place.  
"Sit down before I take you back to holding." The guard gave his first and only warning. Frank relaxed with an aggravated grunt of a response. He had always been good at following the rules even ones he didn't necessarily agree with, but rules didn't seem to make sense like they used to, didn't appeal to him.  
"What is she doing here? What did I tell you?" His eyes whipped over to his attorneys. _'Asked for two things. My day in court, don't even need to win that shit. And to keep Cord out of jail.'_ Sure she wasn't in handcuffs but she was wallowing in prison all the same. Even when Foggy had asked him, for technicality's sake alone if he had wanted rights to visitation Frank paused. He wasn't sure if he wanted Cordelia to come and visit him, have to go through searches and surveillance just to see him. Without Cordelia at his side he didn't know what he wanted. All this thinking was causing his finger to twitch.

"Foggy who else is here?" Matt knew Marci and Cordelia had joined them but he could hear two other heartbeats.  
"Um I assume you two are-"  
"Eaoden O'Dwyer." The gentleman standing behind Cordelia had not broken his glare straight at Frank.  
"And this lovely lady is Patty O'Dwyer." Cordelia pointed over her shoulder at the woman with the out of place smile.  
"She the one who taught you piano?" Frank deserved all this pointed anger but he still had an obligation to unstick Cordelia, he had to try. Mrs. O'Dwyer sucked in a winded gasp.  
"I. . . Mom you ok?" It wasn't forced, Cordelia organically called out to her mother.  
"He . . . he knows about us." Mrs. O'Dwyer hadn't blinked in half a minute, so overwhelmed she was nearly shaking.  
"He . . . don't worry Mom you weren't in any danger. Frank tell my mom you weren't going to kill her!" Cordelia hugged her mother close, scolding Frank for scaring her.  
"Ma'am I know the reputation I got but-" "You told him about us. You didn't forget about us."  
"No Mom I . . . I never forgot . . . I never stopped thinking about you guys." Cordelia squeezed her mother tight.

"It's come to my attention that your assistant Karen Page steam rolled her way into my client's apartment." Marci was here to negotiate, not to host a family reunion.  
"I didn't steamroll. I just . . . needed to explain-" Karen thought Marci was exaggerating just a bit.  
"Whatever helps you sleep at night. Now despite advice from her council Cordelia has taken a page out of Castle's book and turned down the deal proposed by the D.A. She is willing-" Marci had reiterated time and time again, tried to get through to Cordelia that the deal on the table was the best she'd get. It was everything she needed to avoid jail time and on top of that what she had wanted for years but Cordelia hadn't listened.  
"Deal? What Deal? Cord don't be a moron take it, I'm as good as lynched sticking your head in a noose won't do shit." Frank would take a swing at convincing Cordelia.  
"You'll testify for the defense?" Foggy asked in disbelief.  
"This is great news." Karen had all but chalked up her conversation with Cordelia a huge failure, she didn't know what had changed but she was grateful.  
"Great might be over selling it." Cordelia came off as selfish indifference to the untrained eye was anything but. Frank knew it, the O'Dwyers knew it and Cordelia lived it. She was actually straining, breaking, bending over backwards to help anyone but herself. The reason she scoffed, rolled her eyes and dragged her feet as if it was a burdensome chore was to not make the one's she was suffering for feel guilty. Frank did though, if guilt was an Olympic sport Frank would easily take the gold. Next to rage guilt was his most familiar feeling.  
 _'I'll make it up Cord.'_

"Can we ask you some questions?" Foggy wanted to capitalize before Cordelia came to her senses and walked out.  
"On two conditions." Marci's whole purpose of being here was to make sure her client didn't leave empty handed.  
"Conditions?" Frank looked over at Cordelia confused, there was nothing he had to give her, if he did he would but he quite literally had nothing to his name.  
"Conditions. Are you going to fight me about this? She's doing you a favor. In case you haven't noticed she's the only one-"  
"Back off will ya? I'll do it, whatever it is." He assumed Marci wanted him to claim culpability for something being held against Cordelia, he didn't need convincing, didn't need more guilt, he'd help Cordelia any way he could. _'I'm already looking at a life sentences for every bullet. What's a few extra_ years?'  
"First off none of you, and I mean none of you are to speak to my client without approaching me first. That goes double for you Mr. Castle, don't speak to her, don't look at her, if there was a way I could make it so you don't breath the same air through your proceedings I would." She had no polarizing opinion of Frank Castle it just so happened the more they could distance themselves from the Punisher the better her client's chances were, simple as that.  
"I'll do my best to hold my breath." Frank agreed with a sneer. The cuffs chaffed, the bars confined but what made him feel more caged than all else was being told how where when and why to do things. _'Fuckin Hoops.'_  
"What about after . . . after our cases?" Cordelia questioned, she was miffed with Frank to say the least but she didn't want to let him go without a fight.  
"It would be best for you to leave this all behind you-"  
"He's a person you know? Not all this, he's a person." Cordelia was reminding the whole room, all of which looked at Frank like some oddity on display.  
"We'll talk about your options as things play out." Marci much like Frank was finding out how hard headed Cordelia could be. "Secondly no part of your defense whatever that may be will include the mentioning of Dahlia Bell - O'Dwyer."  
 _'The kid.'_ Frank's leveled pulse skipped a beat. "Where is she? Cord is the kid alright?" Dahlia was normally attached to Cordelia's hip. He hadn't heard of hide nor hair of the dog enthusiast since before the beginning of this three ring circus. He saw Cordelia's muscles tense then lax in an emotion he knew all too well, loss.  
"Another O'Dwyer? When it rains it pours." Foggy was having trouble keeping tabs on all the moving parts to Franks murky social life.  
"Cord?" Her silence was killing Frank all over again.  
"Miss O'Dwyer has no knowledge of the child's current whereabouts." The wording Marci used reeked of legal loopholes.  
"And why is that so important?" Even Matt was out of the loop here. "If you're willfully hiding a minor-"  
"I also have no idea where she is." Marci stated emphatically.

Cordelia's inside's were churning, her face sickly and pale. She had done this for Dahlia's own good but that didn't make it hurt any less. "You'd know Cordelia." Her mom spoke with unwavering confidence. "Take it from a mother, you'd know if something was wrong."  
"They didn't come after you again did they?" Frank watched as the still silent Cordelia shook her head no.  
"That's why you didn't want to testify." Super sleuth Karen connected the dots before anyone else. "She threatened to take your child from you?"  
"Fuckin Bullshit. She can't do that can she?" Frank could take any blow the DA threw at him, he had nothing to lose but Cordelia had her life and her custody of Dahlia hanging in the balance.  
"She very much can. Cordelia has no legal rights to the child, seeing as she obtained her through what boils down to black market-"  
"Don't say obtained! You obtain objects, she's not a thing! I didn't order her off Amazon." Cordelia snapped, head still hanging low. A hand rested on Cordelia's shoulders, both to hold her back as well as comfort her, and a pair of eyes tried to melt Frank down to his bones.

Under any other circumstance his unwavering anger and confidence mixed with testosterone and bravado would have caused Frank to glare right back, but he didn't. The man of few words had not even a look to emote what was going on in his head. He didn't blame Mr. O'Dwyer for hating him, he couldn't, in his shoes he'd do the same, Frank would be upset if he didn't. Frank deserved this unbridled hostility. He had put this man's daughter in legal, emotional and physical danger. He was keeping the family man from seeing his grand daughter. Frank was public enemy number one and all of Cordelia's hope and forgiveness would not change that. "It'll be a bumpy road but we'll get her back Cord I swear." Still glaring, still hating, Mr. O'Dwyer multitasked, at the same time reassuring his daughter.  
"I ain't about to get between Cord and the kid, I already got a target on my back." Frank wanted his agreement to Marci's terms to be crystal clear.  
 _'Who is she?'_ Karen was stupefied not by Cordelia's seemingly endless vault of secrets so much as the fact that Frank seemed willing to set himself on fire for her, it was pulling teeth to get him to help in his own case but for Cordelia it was quick and painless. Up until this point his only care, his only ally was vengeance. Cordelia's head rose slightly, that hope, that want crept out from under the anger.  
 _'He isn't completely gone. This isn't for nothing. He may not be coming back, but he's still in there.'_  
"I mean we can agree to not mention her but the DA hasn't pulled any punches yet I doubt-" The ever present voice of reason Foggy Nelson began to chime in.  
"And we're prepared for that but the last thing we need is for your defense to defame the character of a six year old or Cordelia's ability to provide her a safe and loving home by dragging the child into your shit." Marci had already looked at this from every angle, unlike Nelson and Murdock she played not for justice but to win, by any means necessary.

"Alright Alright." Foggy put his hands up in defense. "We can save most of our questions for later but one real quick um . . ." He hesitated, there was no way to sugar coat this. "Do you by any chance have syphilis?"  
"Foggy." Matt as well as the remainder if the room was shocked by this left field less than tactful question.  
"That's messed up man." Cordelia actually laughed for the first time in weeks she genuinely laughed.  
"It's a legitimate question if you have contracted the disease during your tenure-"  
"Tenure I like that." Cordelia continued to laugh  
"In front of her parents? Fuck Even I think that's ruthless." Frank felt disrespected on Cordelia's behalf. The O'Dwyers were a bit taken aback but they stood behind Cordelia as they always did, without question or judgement. Cordelia didn't bat an eye, she had been stigmatized for her sexual history her whole life, being a walking scarlet letter was nothing new.  
"That's not's what's messed up. Ask me about who I am what I did. Ask me in front of my parents, asked me in any church synagogue or masque for all I care. I'm no virgin Mary, they know that, they don't hold it against me. He wants me to have it, that's what's messed up, he wants me to have it and more than that he wants me to have given it to you, fucked you crazy. Sorry Mom." Cordelia paused, she was still getting readjusted to having parents and how to speak in front of them. " He's hoping I made your brain Swiss cheese Frank. Sorry to disappoint Mr. Foggy was it? Everything I've caught has long since cleared up, my parents really cleaned me up good." She had come to them a dirty mess but they had scrubbed her clean of the filth she had been born into, saved her life. "wouldn't have done you any good anyway. You couldn't exactly say the clap made him do it." Cordelia had an airy chuckle to her tone.  
"You don't stop once you get started do you? You're really quite . . . tenacious" Foggy's compliment seemed lack luster after implying she was one penicillin shot short of sane.  
"Don't know the half of it." Unlike Cordelia Frank had an iron will, would take everything on with sheer brute force to get to his objective, over come every obstacle, but what Cordelia lacked in physical resilience and prowess she made up for with wit, foresight and rubber encased ego, everything thrown at her bounced right off in the direction from whence it came, she made it look easy. "Don't mess with her, Super girl's got a lot of fight left." Frank's casual statement sent a jolt through Cordelia, her eyes were wide and confused. He had called her super girl more times than she could count but that's what was so jarring. In this topsy turvy nightmare something was like it used to be.  
"Are we done?" Mr. O'Dwyer could feel Cordelia's hope begin to rise, he didn't want her to sail too high only to crash all over again, he had to protect her like he promised. Frank knew exactly what the retired cop was trying to do, just like the rest of the universe he was trying to keep Frank and Cordelia apart.

"I assume all of your other well thought out questions can wait till an official meeting between me and your partner Mr. Nelson?"  
"They can." Foggy tried to gather up scraps of his professionalism.  
"Thank you Cordelia . . . We don't take this lightly I promise you we respect and care-" Karen tried to smooth over the mistrust shooting from every corner of the room.  
"Can I . . . talk to Frank before we leave?" Cordelia looked at Marci for permission.  
"Cord that ain't-" Frank didn't know if he could handle a one on one with her, he still couldn't give her what she wanted.  
"What did I just say Cordelia? You can't be associated with Frank Castle any more than you already are you're playing with fire as it is. I know you think your quirky girl from the wrong side of the tracks shtick will charm your way out of trouble but not now, not this time. You have to listen to me, I know what I'm doing." Marci felt Cordelia wasn't taking this seriously, Marci was drastically wrong. Cordelia bit her tongue so hard she could almost taste blood. She knew she was on the losing end of a shitty situation, life as she knew it was hanging on the edge of a prayer. She knew even the best lawyer in town was fighting an uphill battle against the D.A on a warpath. What she wasn't showing, what Marci underestimated about Cordelia was that she wasn't as 'quirky' and carefree as she appeared. She was calculative, not giving up any shred of the minute control she had, she was plotting her moves always conscious of risk versus reward. Did she care for Frank? Absolutely but all the care in the world would not blind her of the responsibilities on her shoulders. She was a daughter, a mother, her world didn't revolve around Frank and she could not rely on him to save her this time, they were both drowning but she had to keep herself afloat before trying to pull Frank ashore.  
"I can't pretend I don't know him, that he doesn't exist. But if you give me a chance I can get by, get that distance you want from me. You don't want me distracted by missing Frank do you?" She would play into Marci's perception of her being a ignorant lovestruck fool. _'No use trying to explain it, let her think I'm dense, always keep the expectations low.'  
_ "Ten minutes." Marci relented.  
"We'll be right outside, maybe we can go out somewhere for dinner . . . if you're not busy, do you still like Chinese? Mr. Zhang would be so happy to see you" Mrs. O'Dwyer rambled on, she knew Cordelia hadn't wanted to go back to their home just yet but she still desperately wanted to spend time with her daughter after all those years wishing and waiting.  
"Patty we're in a holding cell with a mass murderer not at the nail saloon with the gals rail it in a bit." Mr. O'Dwyers folded his arms in annoyance. Frank listened with scrutiny not because he cared where Cordelia was eating dinner or because he wanted to see if Mr. O'Dwyer would ever stop staring at him but because this was another little moment to tuck away, in better circumstances to even smile. It was an endearing moment, showcasing that despite Cordelia's dark formative years these were the people that molded her into who she was today. Much like Cordelia Mrs. O'Dwyer could hold onto hope, smile despite foreboding environments she was a deep well of optimism. And much like Cordelia there was an iron lid on that well in Mr. O'Dwyer, counteracting that optimism with control skepticism and vigilance.

Slowly but surely everyone filed out, though the armed guard positioned himself right outside the door. _'Cord?'_ He could see that twinge of anger boil and spill from her eyes through her whole body like a volcano. she was no lovesick fool, she was here to rip Frank apart. She stood there silently stewing chewing away at their few minutes together. "You're the mind reader Cord not me." He snorted looking off to the side, the whole city was angry at him for one reason or another still he refused to acknowledge or beg for forgiveness from the one person's anger that mattered. "What do you want from me? Huh? I don't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of." He was normally calm, rage fueled and carnage prone but calm, in control. The unease Cordelia's silence was giving him was chipping away at that calm.  
"What do I want? Oh I'm so terribly sorry that I've been so needy and selfish recently." She broke her silence with not a whisper but a bang. "Here's a thought, how about an explanation Frank? Explain to me why I'm doing all this when you can't bother to give a fuck?"  
"Don't be stupid Cord" Frank could see even out of the corner of his eye Cordelia's muscles tense, she was prepping to hit him, a slap a punch he'd take it all without question, anything he could give her he would but if that guard came in, if he pushed her again that's where the trouble would start. "I got caught Cord." He paused to chuckle, he knew it wasn't going to be that easy, Cordelia never was but he'd need her to go on, spell it out to get to the root of the issue. "You were right there's no such thing as being sorta shot, even I only got so much blood." He shrugged, still kicking himself for 'losing.' Finally turning back to her he could see her face go pale at the thought of him bleeding all over the place like a stuck pig. "Sorry Cord, forgot how squeamish you are." He oddly found her fear of blood to be an alluring trait. Just another piece of her that seemed almost custom made to keep him in check. He was blind to the blood it was as common as air but she was there to remind him that in fact it wasn't. She would push past her fear just for him, but he could keep the blood at bay just for her, protect her from it.

"What kind of game are you playing Frank? I can't handle this anymore, I'm cracking here." After coming out swinging with anger she felt drained.  
"Game?" Frank was throughly confused just like he knew he would be. They were always trying to beat each other to the chase, figure each other out but they had never toys with each other, they had moved forward and back but never maliciously. They were both living in a world with no compassion to spare why would he ever be purposefully cruel to her?  
"Those things you had that secretary give to me . . . they were important Frank, it's not like returning some CDs to an ex."  
"I didn't figure you the jealous type." Frank chuckled at the venomous tone Cordelia had refereed to Karen with. How could she think that he would flip on a dime when another female was in the picture? He'd immediately find out.  
"Was that before . . ." All the anger had been replaced with familiar weepy eyes. "Before you found out?" Her mouth was dry as she finally revealed what she was getting at.  
"What I tell you about being stupid Cord?" Any amusement was pushed with force out of Frank's face. He wouldn't let this go on, let her feel bad for herself, let her think he thought any less of her, was repulsed by her because of her past. "That shit ain't on you Cord. That ain't who you are, don't let them tell you nothin. I know what you are more than . . . shit short of that muppet friend of yours . . . I know you Cord. You're not fuckin trash Cord, hell you and that kid are the cleanest things left in this city. You're better than that Super Girl you know that right?" Cursing and winding himself out he desperately tried to let her know his image of her hadn't ever wavered. She still was and always would be the only one able to make him almost happy, it would always be her, there was nothing she had done, nothing she could do that would change that fact.  
"Ain't gonna be pope." Frank had jumped through another hoop and Cordelia rewarded him with a soft laugh, that hope rode in on the coat tails of that laugh, back to the forefront.

"Speaking of clean, you look like shit Frank."  
"Yeah?" They had unstuck one another, they could talk again, as close to normal as they'd ever be. "Yeah. If Dahlia and I are gonna be visiting you in the loony bin try to keep the bruises to a minimum ok? Hair looks alright though really grows like weeds doesn't it? Now that's jealousy right there Frank."  
 _'Visit?'_ He wasn't sure if he could let her see him like that, stripped of everything that made him who he was. He couldn't lose her and if that meant he had to keep her away he'd do it, he had to protect her, had to be what she wanted. "Time's almost up Cord." They would save that argument for another day. "Cord I . . ." His tone went from aloof to his usual cryptic seriousness.  
"What is it Frank. You can't ask me about Dahlia you really can't, I need to get her back-"  
"It's you and the kid over everything Cord, I meant what I said."  
"Then what is it Frank? We had a good streak going, went a whole two minutes without butting heads." They both smirked but time was ticking by he had to tell her.

"I'm sorry Cord." Alien words came from Frank, you could have knocked Cordelia over with a feather. "It shouldn't have been like that." He wasn't apologizing for getting caught, for her getting roped into it, he had warned her from day one that he was not to be tangled with. He was apologizing for the way they had found out about each other, it had been cheap and tasteless, it had been ripped from the headlines. It should have been organic, it should have been just for them. All those games of twister finally paid off. Cordelia knew she only had seconds left and she intended to make them count, her boldness grew as she approached closer. Snaking a leg over Frank's lap and dipping her head through his shackled arms she straddled him, kissing him with that same tenderless force as she had before. She gripped onto that hair she doted on so much holding onto Frank for dear life. He couldn't do much, he wanted to hold her but he couldn't, the best he could do was lean forward. All he could do was apologize "I'm sorry." He managed to mumble past crushing lips, meeting her as both of their hips raised, not in a sensual grinding manner but just to simply as close to each other as possible. Transferring to each other what they needed. Cordelia's healing touches from all sides was mending each bruise, soothing each fracture, infusing each scar with a tolerable amount of hope to linger on him. Frank with every strain and contort to get to her was giving Cordelia an invigorated level of fight, the way he met and complimented each of her movements the man on a mission affirmed that despite all the changes, they were the same. Despite the fact that he couldn't hold her, the way his looming frame found a way to shield them from the rest of the world made her feel safe.

"Hey!" The guard came bolting in. Frank stood best he could, accommodating Cordelia's contortion from out of his lap.  
"You a big man huh? You gonna push her around again?" Frank flared, he wanted the attention solely on him, in this situation he could still protect her from an immediate threat, for the first time since the Irish he felt useful.  
"Sit down. You get out, now!" It was easy for the guard to throw imaginary weight around, to pretend just seeing Frank stand with that dead cold stare didn't intimidate him.  
"I'm going I'm going!" Cordelia put her hands up in defense pausing mid stride to take a last look at Frank. She had almost forgotten how quick and effortlessly Frank could embrace his violent nature. He was still standing, snarling, daring the guard to get close to him, his finger twitching.  
"Listen Super Girl stay safe you hear me? Don't be stupid yeah?" He hadn't broken his stare to address her, he wanted a fight bad.  
"Well I have to don't I? Sit down Frank, you're not coming back to me but I'm coming for you. You hear that? I'm coming for you Frank Castle and if there's nothing left of you to come for I'll never forgive you!" She half promised and half threatened. Frank still didn't brake his stare but he did sit because it dawned on him She didn't care either. Who he was, who he had been, who he'd become whatever Frank Castle that would greet her next she would want him all the same, but Cordelia couldn't stomach the sight of blood.

Frank was returned to his cell, alone again, embracing the dark, relishing in the silence. Laying down he stared at the ceiling blankly for minutes or hours it didn't much matter. He remained motionless till he heard a knock against the bars of his cell. _'Who the fuck now?'_ He half sat up staring into the hallway. "Cord?" How could she have possibly gotten past the guards, more importantly why? Wasn't she in enough trouble? If she had expected him to be happy to see her it was to be a big let down. His body language oozed anger as he approached his bars. "Shit Cord get out of here." His voice was dismissive and jaded. Anger paused a light bulb went off in his head. If she got in he could get out, maybe he wasn't as trapped as he thought, maybe the security was more lax than portrayed. He tried to examine his surroundings for means of escape but something broke his concentration, the jingling of keys.  
"You're no fun." The lock slid open and Cordelia walked past the dazed and confused Frank.  
 _'How?'_ Frank should have noticed should have seen through this but maybe he didn't want to. He didn't make a mad dash towards freedom his whole essence was locked on her, on Cordelia's eyes, he spun around to hold that gaze. Her eyes were normally moist, gushing babbling like a brook but they were bone dry, a crackling brush fire, not with anger like earlier but something else entirely, something that gave Frank goosebumps, something like lust. Him being thoroughly thrown off by that look was the only explanation for what happened next. She pushed him, and instead of keeping his heavy footing he was sent back a few paces he could not fight this. As quickly as she had pushed him away she grabbed at his orange prison garb pulling him hard against her.  
"Don't worry I won't hurt you." Her smile was strong, full of bold confidence, she was in control. Cordelia leaned in kissing him in her blunt unapologetic way. Frank broke free, breath hitched in his throat.

"Stop." He made a what half passed as a protest. "Cord you don't gotta-" He thought she was trying to compensate, trying to prove her worth to him, she didn't need to prove anything, not a god damn thing.  
"I've been waiting Frank." She closed the small gap once again, resting her face against his chest, her cheek being jolted by every boom of Frank's heart. "You won't get another chance." Each word was slow, transferring from her lips deep into Frank's core. "To give me what I want." She looked up at him with her needy lustful eyes. "I want you." She leaned up and kissed him again. She had said the magic words to open Frank up, there was no more protests to be made, he kissed her back.  
 _'What she want matters. What she wants matters.'_ That phrase repeated itself over and over again in his head dictating his every move. He wrapped his rigid arms around her, holding her close. They were on fire they were burning alive and Frank couldn't comprehend how lucky he was for that sensation. He barely heard the buttons to his shirt snap open but oh could he feel how her hands dipped through his undershirt widened palms exploring his abdomen, his chest, dangerously above his waist band. "Cord." He gasped out, eyes clenched shut to calm himself down. He had to move, he had to do something, he had to give her what she wanted. It was his turn to feel her all over, his mouth finally free of her brutal lips went to her neck to her exposed shoulder, his brutish hands did their best to be gentle as he lifted her flowy blouse over her head, as her traced fingers over her skin. He tried to commit the feeling to memory but he couldn't, it felt like . . . nothing but it was the most bliss inducing nothing he had ever touched. The more he tried to put a description to the feeling the more elusive it seemed so he gave up, at peace with just enjoying it. She was guiding him, moving him, he wasn't sure where till the back of his knees collided with the metal edges of his bed. Her hand reached lower churning in such away that created an intense and blood pumping level of friction he wanted more, with each swirl of her wrist he tried to move deeper into her palm, she took hold of him sliding her hand up and down his length with slow but tight intensity, he had asked for more but this was too much all at once, out of nowhere. He sat, or more accurately fell to a seated position, just watching her in awe. This is what almost happy felt like, he was there, basking in it bursting at the seams with it, there was room for nothing else inside of him. Cordelia began to unbutton the top to her jeans but Frank stopped her taking her wrists in his hands. _'No.'_ He grimaced for a second as he caught his breath, made sense of jumbled thoughts. _'Not enough.'_ He reveled in the want she was emitting, she wanted him and he could give it to her and everything be damned he would. She was doing too much, or he wasn't doing enough he couldn't quite tell but she deserved better she deserved more and he could give that to her. _'Gotta make it up to her.'_ He let go of her wrists, a dopey stare in his eyes pleading for a chance to try. She waited, she smiled, she nodded. _'Shit.'_ How just standing there and still was giving him all he asked for. "Cord how-" He shook his head, he was going about this all wrong. _'This ain't a thinking man's game._ ' He tugged at the waist of her jeans pulling them down to her ankles, his hands rose slowly dragging along that same nothing skin that encased her legs, stoping at points to grip her, a hearty hold but as gentle as he could muster. People had hurt her, scared her, not him, he would try to appease that want the proper way, he didn't exactly remember how to be affectionate it but he was determined to give that to her. His hands stopped mid thigh and his face crouched down to meet them, kissing and barely nipping at that nothing cloud like flesh. Her skin was crisp and luminescent, a full moon cast over muscle and bone. She hadn't spoken, not in quite sometime, for a moment he wavered, gulping anxiously. Was his desire and lust overpowering hers? Try as he might was his animal urges simply snuffing out her want for him? Was she bored? Was she scared? Was she doing this all for him? _'Do something you fucking idiot.'_ But he couldn't move, he was paralyzed, it wasn't quite stage fright, it wasn't quite guilt it was some hybrid of too many unsorted thoughts that without Cordelia picking his brain he couldn't decipher.

"Relax ok?" Cordelia finally had pity on him, finally spoke, she was pulling her pants off from the floor.  
 _'You blew it, fuckin choked.'_ Frank looked up at her, he was anything but relaxed, his blood racing, he was angry, frustrated in more ways than one, he felt as if he came up short yet again, like everything else since he'd risen from the dead. "Cord I . . . I can't . . . I want . . ." Words just weren't coming, he was still drawing too many blanks. His mind was a tornado and he couldn't keep anything but the feigning want in Cordelia's eyes in his sights.  
"You're not ready to be happy." She gave him a kiss, this time light and delicate, a hand gliding through his hair, not pulling not grabbing, this time caressing, almost a sign of reassurance. "As long as you know Frank, a little part of you wants to be happy." Now that was a red flag he couldn't ignore, that woke him up.

He just blinked, staring at his cell ceiling as that bone crushing ache weighed down on him. Eventually the tactician in him fought past the frustration pulsing from his head to his toes and a few organs in between. _'Think, Think you idiot.'_ By this point he had realized that his waking mind only saw red only saw carnage only saw war. It was only while he slept and those few prying moment from Cordelia that he could even barely sift through the flowing sands of any other thoughts he had. So what short of the obvious sexual overtones was that dream supposed to mean? He came to three conclusions: He could get out, it would take time and patient planing but those were two things he had in spades, no jail or nut house would keep him locked up forever. Which brought him the his second point, he wasn't done, they'd all still pay ever last bastard if and when it killed him he'd take them all down with him. Which brought him to his third point, he knew jack shit about Cordelia. Not entirely true, he knew they both were going at the same speed, had the fortitude to put up with each other's shit, he had gotten most of her personality and eccentricity down and was fond of them to boot but he didn't know her. Not just how her skin felt but the average things you get to know about someone like their favorite foods, their hobbies, what makes up a day in their life. They had formed their constant bickering coexistence on pure instinct and blind trust, it was enough for the moment but they needed more and Cordelia was right, he wasn't ready. He simply did not have the time nor the space for knowing Cordelia. Too much of him was occupied by war, his fallen family, the part he had completely lost to the black hole that was the Punisher, there was only that little quarter of an inch spared for Cordelia. She was also right that he wanted to, wanted to know more than nothing about her, wanted to be almost happy. Something had to give, to make room for her because that little part of him was starved for her, desperate to give her anything he had left, anything she wanted, all that was left of him. He knew what he had to do, he had to break free, he had to claim his brand of justice for his family and he had to claw himself out of that black hole and get to Cordelia before she ran out of time for him. The clock was ticking and Frank had a clear mission ahead of him, there was nothing and no one who would get between Frank Castle and completing a mission.


End file.
